Can I Keep Him?
by TeenTypist
Summary: "Can I keep him?" Mrs. Weasley simply stared, looking between her daughter and the young man standing in front of the fireplace, dripping wet. Ginny looked imploringly at her mother. "My Gran is dead. Just for a little while. Please?" Neville, COMPLETE, NLGW
1. New Arrival

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** The first eight chapters were written before _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince _came out, therefore this story doesn't pay any attention to what the lovely Ms. Rowling (or should I say Murray?) said in the aforementioned book. Now, let's get on with the story. By the way, this is set in the summer after Order of the Phoenix. The story may or may not extend beyond the summer, I haven't decided for sure yet. Snotty author's note over, so let's get to the story!

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**CHAPTER 1: New Arrival

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**

"Can I keep him?"

Mrs. Weasley simply stared, looking back and forward between her daughter and the young man standing in front of the fireplace, dripping wet.

Ginny looked imploringly at her mother.

"My Gran is dead. Just for a little while. Please?"

"O-of course you may, dear." After the slightest of pauses to allow the shock to wear off, she became her usual self again. "Come, dear, sit at the table here and I'll get a fire going to warm you up. You look like you could use a good meal too. You're half-frozen! Just sit yourself at the table here. Ginny, go get him a blanket from upstairs." Ginny darted off and Mrs. Weasley started bustling around the kitchen. She all but forcibly put the young man into his chair and immediately lit a fire. She started preparing some good hot food and hot chocolate for him at once.

Ginny came back down and started heading over to him with the blanket, but her mother said, "Watch the soup!" and took the blanket from her and put it around the boy's shoulders, scooting his chair closer to the fire.

"Thank you, ma'am. You don't have to fix me anything. I'll leave just as soon as I've warmed up a little bit."

"You most certainly will not. I won't hear of it. You're staying here and that's final. You're what? Fifteen years old? I will not have you out roaming the streets."  
"I'll be sixteen tomorrow," he said defensively.

"Sixteen. Well, you're still too young to be alone. You'll stay with us and that's final. I'll send a letter to Dumbledore right now. Ginny, go get me—"

"I'm on my way, Mum," Ginny said, dutifully.

She brought him a steaming mug of cocoa. "Here, dear, drink some of this cocoa; you'll feel better. It's an old family recipe. Your soup is almost ready." She hurried over to the other side of the kitchen to tend to the meal.

"Really, you don't have to—" he started.

"I insist. Now, drink up."

He took a cautious sip. It was good and started to warm him immediately; it was just hot enough without burning his mouth. Perfect. He heard a loud _thunk_ behind him and turned to look at the table. There wasn't just a bowl of soup there. Mrs. Weasley had prepared brown bread that looked as though it'd just been baked, chicken noodle soup, a ham sandwich, and a tall glass of milk.

"The rest have already eaten. Eat up, you look half-starved." Mrs. Weasley came around the table and turned his chair around and pushed him nearer to the table. She took her seat across from him. "Where is Ginny with that writing paper?" she muttered. "Ginny!"

"Here I am, Mum." Ginny came in carrying parchment, ink, and quills and dumped them all on the table.

Mrs. Weasley sat down and started to write. She told Professor Dumbledore that he was here and that he would be staying for the remainder of the summer. No boy deserved to be alone in a time like this. Molly made it respectfully clear in the letter that the boy wouldn't be leaving until they all left for King's Cross. "Ginny, take this upstairs now. I want it Owled to Dumbledore immediately."

Ginny looked like she really wanted to stay, but she held her tongue and left the room—she started running as soon as she was out of her mother's sight. When Ginny reentered the kitchen, the young man she'd brought was still eating at the table. She took a seat next to him and squeezed his hand for moral support.

"Do you want me to tell her?" she asked.

He felt some Gryffindor bravery welling up inside him and said, "No, I'll do it." He pushed the plate a little away. "I woke up this morning and when I went downstairs, I realized that Gran wasn't up yet; she's always up before me. So I went to her room to check on her and make sure everything was okay. She hasn't really been feeling great this summer When I got to her she was shivering and cold, even though she had 3 blankets on. I sat next to her and she told me that she was proud of me for being me and that she wished she'd said something sooner. That it was okay if I wasn't the best at everything, so long as I kept trying. And that she loved my parents and me. And that was it; she stopped breathing was gone. Her eyes just stared at the ceiling. But I didn't know what to do." It was an effort to keep his voice from breaking, but he managed, barely. "I flooed to St. Mungos and told them what had happened. I stayed there most of the day with…my parents. I told them what happened. I told them that Gran loved them. When I left St. Mungos it was raining and I kinda just wandered around London until I ended up at the Leakey Cauldron. I guess I had some notion in the back of my head to go to Diagon Alley. That's where Ginny found me."

"I was on my way back from bringing Fred and George something to eat, since they were working through dinner tonight—George said to tell you they'll be working later than expected—and I went to the Leakey Cauldron to Floo home. That's when I saw him walking, covered with rain. I got him to sit down and tell me what was going on and I brought him here. Can he stay?"

"I don't—" he started.

"Of course he's staying," Mrs. Weasley said, in a tone not to be questioned. She turned kindly to him, "Eat up, dear."

"Really, I'm full. It was delicious. Thank you," the young man told her sincerely.

"Ginny, take him upstairs. Dear, do you want someone to fetch your things for you? Charlie!" she started to call.

"Really, you don't have to…"

"Well, you can wear something of Ron's tonight and I can send on of the boys with you in the morning. I'll not hear another word about it."

Ginny led him up the stairs and past several doors. They came to a door with a peeling sign on it. "Everybody is in here," Ginny said.

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**Author's Note:** So how was it? Good, bad, or ugly? Let me know what you thought. Next chapter will go up in a week; quicker if you review. 


	2. A Night With Peers

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note: **Sorry the first chapter was so short, it just seemed like a good ending place. Thanks to my reviewers; you guys mean a lot to me. As for pairings:I never answer yes or no onthose so keep guessing.

A tiny non-cannon note here: I know there's an interview that says Neville's birthday is July 30th, but I didn't read that interview until a couple of weeks ago. For the sake of this story (since it's already AU anyway) I'm going to ignore that statement.

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**CHAPTER 2: A Night With Peers**

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The door opened to an explosion of orange. He realized he had underestimated Ron's love for Quidditch, and the Chuddley Cannons. The bedspread and the walls were all brilliant shade of orange. The walls were covered in Chuddley Cannons posters and the bedspread itself was Chuddley Cannons memorabilia as well.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione were sitting on the floor chatting and laughing. They caught sight of the new arrivals.

"What are you doing here, Neville?" Ron asked brightly (but a little confused).

Neville glanced at Ginny and shrugged. "I'm staying for the summer," Neville said. He wasn't ready to tell the story again.

"Won't your grandma get lonely?" asked Ron, ever tactless.

"Thought it would be good to spend time with kids my own age," he muttered.

"Gin, what did the twins say?" asked Ron, quickly forgetting Neville.

Ginny sat down cross-legged between Harry and Hermione and motioned for Neville to join her. "They said they could be running a bit late, but they should be home soon. They also said they've got some new products nearly ready for sale. I told them I had people I'd be willing to test them on, so they're bringing some samples home." Ginny grinned evilly. She'd really been quite pleased that she'd been allowed out of the house alone at all; she wasn't sure if how much longer she'd be allowed to as all the adults seemed to be getting more paranoid.

"Don't let mum hear you talk like that, or we'll all catch it hot," George warned from the doorway.

Fred came and stood next to him. "That's right. Mum only approves of the joke shop as long as we aren't 'corrupting' the rest of her_ darling _children. She said that includes you too, Harry, so be good," he snickered.

"When did you two get home?" asked Hermione, standing up.

"Not a minute ago," Fred said. He gave Hermione a hug and then turned her around by her shoulders so she could give George a hug too. Hermione and Harry had only just arrived earlier in the day when the twins were still at work. Hermione's loathing toward Umbridge meant she decided to forgive them for most of their mischief as long as there wasn't any of it in store for her personally. Fred and George waved hello at Harry. They saw Neville and gave mock impressions of being startled (evidently Mrs. Weasley had told them that Neville would be staying).

"George, I do believe my eyes are failing."

"Perhaps you've just forgotten how to count, dear brother."

"Well, let's see. Two redheads, our lovely bookworm, that green-eyed boy who keeps hanging around here, and…one more!"

"Did Mum pick another one up while shopping again?" asked George.

"I don't know."

They both grinned. "Good to have you here, Neville," they said. Deciding that as of-age wizards they were too good for the floor, they shut the door and sat on the camping bed, which seemed to be the only thing in the room _not_ covered in orange.

"Did you bring the stuff?" asked Ginny, eyes gleaming with malice. "I can't wait to try it all out on Malfoy."

"You be careful," George said.

"You'd better 'toe the line' and not get in any trouble," added Fred.

Ginny grinned. "Weasley rule number #2 Don't get caught," she recited.

"Good girl."

"We've taught you so well. Now if only Ron and Harry could learn from your example…" Fred sighed. Ron and Harry got caught far more often than was wise for their health.

"We're going to give MalFerret plenty of trouble this year. Especially on the Quidditch pitch," Harry said. "Right?" He looked at Ginny and Ron, who nodded vigorously.

"It's a shame we've got to train up new Beaters though," Ginny said, sourly.

"That's not our fault. Even if we hadn't left, we wouldn't be there now."

"But if you stayed through the year, you might have been able to offer some advice on training or picking people for next year. I'm not thrilled about last year's last minute replacements and I don't want to keep them," Harry said firmly.

"But we were banned for life from Quidditch anyway," Fred said glumly.

"Dumbledore got that reversed this summer though," Hermione said.

"That's true."

"I don't see what all this fuss is over Quidditch anyway. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore canceled it in an attempt to make the houses get along," Hermione said.

Ron stared at her. "How can you say that? Quidditch is life!"

Charlie, who had come home this summer to help out with the Order and was studying some native dragons of Great Britain, stuck his head in the door, "Somebody mention Quidditch?"

"Can't hide anything from you," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"Can't hide anything in this _house_," Charlie said, coming in and taking the chair at Ron's desk.

They all chatted a bit, Charlie not questioning Neville's presence. Ron always seemed to bring friends home over the summer. What was one more? He'd passed Percy on the stairs carrying another bed up so he knew the boy would staying at least the night. Charlie knew his face was vaguely familiar, as though he'd seen it a very long time ago. He soon gathered that the boy's name was Neville.

Bill came in, brandishing a letter, "Char-Char, there's a letter for you. It just came through."

Everyone turned to look at Charlie, who was blushing a fearsome pink (particularly his nose and ears). "Nobody's called me 'Char-Char' since I was little, except Mum and…" he trailed off as the gears in his head clicked. "Gimme that letter!" He lunged forward to snatch the letter from his older brother.

Harry, Neville, and the others saw that the letter was indeed addressed with the words "Char-Char." Bill, realizing how much Charlie wanted the letter, tossed it to Ron. "Keep away from Charlie!" he howled, laughing.

Charlie was now running toward Ron, and Ron tossed the letter over Charlie's head to Harry. Harry glanced at it, didn't recognize the writing, and threw it Frisbee-style to Fred. Fred opened the letter and started to read while Bill was detaining Charlie on the other side of the room (which was no easy task). "To my darling Char-Char," started Fred.

Charlie made a sound of disgust. "She only calls me that to annoy me. I never should have let it slip that Mum used to call me that."

"Maybe we should just skip to the end of the letter and see just who 'she' is," suggested George.

"A capital idea! Now let's see…" Fred's eyes scanned down to the end of the page and he gave a snort of laughter. He showed the letter to George.

George grinned. "I should have known! I thought they were a little too close the last time I saw them together. Don't worry, Charlie, we won't show anyone. This is too good for mere humiliation; this is more like blackmail material."

"It's my letter. Let me read it. She might have said something important," Charlie said, straining to get away from Bill. He almost succeeded. Just because Bill was older didn't mean Charlie wasn't stronger. At their ages, it didn't matter if someone was a few years older. The only problem was that Bill had done of top notch job of pinning Charlie's arms behind his back.

"If you don't let _me_ read it, I'll let him get you," Bill said to the twins.

Fred and George held a briefly whispered conference. "Bill, you will have full access to the letter at a later time." Fred stuffed the letter in his pocket.

"That's better," Bill said. "Sorry, _Char-Char_." Bill still held Charlie's arms pinned, clearly no easy task. Bill was taller than Charlie and could have held the letter over his head for quite some time, but Charlie was stockier and had a little more muscle than he did. Bill was finding it a little tougher to hold on.

Charlie glared at him.

At that moment, Percy came in, hauling another camping bed behind him.

"What's that for? Harry's bed is already here."

"Neville," Percy replied shortly as he dragged the bed so that it was set up between Ron and Harry's. No one offered to help him.

"Neville? I half forgot you were here," Ron said. "You've been so quiet."

Neville just shrugged. He didn't really feel like talking. The others were all part of the same group; he wasn't there yet.

Percy said with as much primness as he could muster, "Mother said that she'll bring some more pillows and blankets up in a bit."

"Percy, if you don't mind my asking, why didn't you just use your wand to bring that up?" asked Hermione.

"Ask _them_. I'll be in my room writing to Penny." He slammed the door and was gone.

Harry and Hermione hadn't asked about the Percy situation yet (knowing it was probably delicate), but now they were more curious than ever. "So?" asked Harry.

"Mum and Dad were ready to take him back, we weren't. We saw how much it hurt _them_ everyday when he was gone. He's still earning _our_ trust back. We talked it over, like mature adults, and decided to take away his wand."

"You're punishing him?" gasped Hermione.

"Well, we're not exactly punishing him. It's more like he's…doing penance for his sins or his crimes."

"You see, we wrote up this whole list of terms of agreement for him to come back. Not being allowed to use his wand outside of work is just one of them"

"So you see, it's understandable that he was a little miffed when Mum needed someone to bring the bed up; Charlie and I told her that Percy would be happy to volunteer," Bill finished.

"Do your parents know about how you're all treating Percy?" asked Hermione.

"Merlin, no!" the redheads said, looking shocked.

"And they aren't going to find out, right?" asked George.

"Mum would have our hides for sure," said Fred.

Harry and Hermione nodded. "Not a word."

Neville just sat there.

"Right?" repeated George looking at Neville a little menacingly.

"Oh, right. Of course not," Neville said. He'd always wanted a brother or a sister, or somebody around who was somewhere near his own age. How could they be treating their brother like this? Then again, he didn't know too much of what had gone on really, just bits and pieces he picked up last year. It wasn't as though anyone ever bothered to actually tell him what was going on.

"Good. Because if there's one thing Mum always says, it's that you're never too old…" said Bill.

"Or too far away…" said Charlie.

"Or too be-freckled…" said George.

"Or too funny…" said Fred.

"Or too tall," added Ron.

"Or too young," Ginny said.

"To stop listening to your mother," all seven Weasleys finished.

"Neville, do you remember how nice Mum was downstairs?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"Imagine the exact opposite of that, and you've got an impression of her when she's really angry," said Ginny.

Neville swallowed involuntarily. It sounded worse than Gran when she was mad.

"Do you remember when we took Dad's flying car and rescued Harry that summer?" Fred asked Ron, wistfully.

"Yeah. And when we got back…"

"Mum was yelling so loud at the three of you that she woke me up," Ginny laughed.

"She was a complete angel to me when I showed up with you," said Harry.

"Of course she was. Unlike us, you hadn't broken any rules yet," said Fred.

"Didn't I tell you that rescue mission was a bad idea?" Hermione scolded Ron.

Bill asked Charlie, "Where were we that summer?"

"You'd just gotten transferred to Egypt and I was finally finished with my training and off to Romania."

"Oh, right."

Neville felt very out of place as they continued to reminisce. He didn't know what was going on with Percy. He didn't know about all the past Weasley family, Harry, and Hermione escapades. After all, only so much of it ended up in school gossip (or the news). He just wasn't part of the family like Harry and Hermione were. He sat there, pretty much ignored. "Er, where's the bathroom?"

"Down the stairs, third door on your right."

"Thanks," he said, getting up and shuffling out of the room. As he was leaving, he heard Hermione ask the others about how Penny had taken it when Percy had left the house.

Neville saw clutter on the stairs and in the messy rooms whose doors were ajar. Gran would have never permitted anything of the sort in her house. She wasn't exactly a neat freak, but she liked things to have order and make sense. It never made sense to her why her grandson didn't excel in all the areas that her son had.

Neville thought about going back down to the kitchen and Flooing home. He didn't belong here. He wasn't in the mood for company, but he didn't want to go back to that empty house. Besides, he could hear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking in the kitchen. He went back up the stairs and paused outside the door to Ron's room when he heard his name.

"What about Neville? How much do we tell him?" asked one of the twins.

"What do you mean how much?"

"We've got a lot of information. Four of us are in the Order, and you four already know way more than you should," said Bill.

"Order information is supposed to be secret," Charlie reminded them.

Ginny said firmly, "Neville is in the same pot of stew as the rest of us."

Harry agreed. "He fought with us at the Department of Mysteries. He's always been someone we could trust if we had to." Neville realized this wasn't exactly the best of compliments, but at least it was something.

"From the sound of it, so was Pettigrew before he switched sides," warned Ron.

"Ron!" scolded Hermione.

"Well it's true. I'm just using my brain and being cautious, Herms. You never know when a traitor will turn up," he replied.

"You can't honestly suspect _Neville_!" Hermione said, shocked.

"I don't and I hope I never have to," Ron said heavily with a certain amount of vehemence in his voice. "But nowadays, how can anybody trust anybody?"

"If you think Neville is here as a spy, you're dead wrong, Ronald Billius Weasley!" replied Ginny angrily.

"Billius?" asked Hermione.

"After an uncle," Ron said impatiently. "If he's not here to spy, then why is he here? He's never come before, or shown any interest in us. You honestly can't believe that lie about spending time with his peers," Ron retorted. "Did he even bring a trunk or his Hogwarts stuff?"

"I know why he's here, but I'm not about to tell you, Ronald Weasley. I _invited_ him. If he thinks he can trust you enough to tell you why, then just maybe he'll tell you. In the meantime, just drop it. I'm sure he'll be back any minute."

Neville smiled weakly. Good old Ginny. At least he could count on her. He listened while they chose a "safe topic." As he entered, they were talking about Quidditch.

"I really think the Canons can take it this year," Ron insisted.

"The Canons don't stand a shot, Ron."

"I'm telling you, this is their year!"

"You've been saying that since you first learned how to say Quidditch. Give it up."

"Let's ask an outside opinion," recommended Hermione. "Neville, what do you think about the Canons' chances this year?"

Neville weighed his choices. If he said they didn't stand a shot and couldn't catch the Quaffle if it was glued to their hands, and couldn't throw it in the hoop if the hoop was a mile wide, Ron might strangle him in his sleep. He didn't know all that much about Quidditch, but he'd heard enough about the Cannons to know that even he would probably be a better player than most of that team and he hadn't flown since first year. "I don't know, I spend a lot of time outside in the garden. Not much time reading in the paper about Quidditch." It seemed the safest answer, and it was true.

"Not reading the paper? But what if something important came up?" asked Hermione.

"I skim it usually. Or I glance at the headlines. I don't get to see it until Gran is done and if there's anything important she'll tell me. But we stopped getting _The Prophet_ last summer." That _hurt_. Was it _always_ going to hurt so much when he mentioned his Gran? Harry would know. Harry might just understand what he was feeling. But Neville wasn't ready to talk to Harry. Not yet.

Harry said, "Skimming is a bad idea. Do you have any idea how much I missed last year by just checking the front page and the headlines?"

"They did say some rotten stuff about you last year," Neville admitted.

Mrs. Weasly knocked and opened the door. "Are all of you still awake? You ought to be asleep. Especially those of you who have work tomorrow," she said, looking pointedly at the four oldest.

George shrugged. "It's our shop. We open whenever we want to anyway."

"And close whenever we want. We'll be home early tomorrow night for the birthday celebration, Harry," Fred added.

"We thought about taking the whole day off, but summer is our busiest time of year with all the Hogwarts kids out of school, you know. Can't miss out."

"Go for it," Harry said.

Charlie and Bill looked at each other. "We don't have such a flexible work schedule. We have to be on time for our jobs. But I don't have to go in until eleven anyway. And I've got a letter to write." Charlie glared at the twins as if to say, _I'm going to get that letter back. Sleep with one eye open._ Fred and George just snickered.

Bill looked at Harry, "Charlie and I really wanted to take the day off, but we couldn't get it. We're both free on Thursday though. Thought maybe a game of Quidditch might be fun."

"Yeah! That sounds great. I'm really out of practice after last year…" Harry trailed off.

"Bed, now. All of you," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "Here, Neville dear, I brought you some pillows and blankets." She gave him a kind smile and went about making up his bed.

Everyone started saying their goodnights, and by the time any of them had actually stood up to leave, Mrs. Weasley was back in the doorway.

Bill passed through first. "Goodnight, Mum." He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Charlie, Fred, and George all did the same. As Ginny and Hermione went through, they gave her a hug and told her goodnight as well. "Goodnight, boys," she said to Ron, Harry, and Neville. But she didn't leave.

Ron got the message and got up to give her a goodnight kiss too, blushing a little as if saying, _Mum! In front of my friends?_

Harry got up and hugged Mrs. Weasley.

Neville felt compelled to do the same. Mrs. Weasley even gave him an extra hug. It was nice. Mrs. Weasley was so warm and friendly and open compared to his Gran; as much as he loved his grandmother, he knew she didn't radiate the same natural warmth. Mrs. Weasley beamed at them all and said goodnight. Mr. Weasley passed by and popped his head in the door.

"Goodnight, Ron. Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Neville. It'll be nice to have you stay this summer, Neville. Always a pleasure having you, Harry. Maybe tomorrow we can talk about computerors?"

Harry grinned, "Computers, Mr. Weasley."

"Oh, right, right."

"I'll be there in a moment, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said. "Ron, Neville's things won't be arriving until tomorrow. Would you loan him something to sleep in for tonight?" It wasn't really a question.

"Of course, Mum."

"Alright then. Goodnight, all of you."

"Goodnight," they chorused.

At last, the door was shut.

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**Author's Note:** Please, make my day and review. I'm under major school stress right now, so seeing a review will make my day a little better.


	3. You Can't Escape What's in Your Mind

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** I know this is a short chapter, really sorry about that. The next chapter however is **_3_** times as long. It's a good 9 pages if I do say so myself. I'll update in five days, sooner if you review. Just thought I'd put that carrot out there. Thanks so much for sending me good vibes, you guys, I'm working on destressitizing at the moment.

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**CHAPTER 3: You Can't Escape What's in Your Mind

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**

Ron went over to his dresser and dug out a set of pajamas. He threw them on his bed, and dug out a second set for Neville.

Harry rummaged around his trunk and got out his own pajamas. Like everything else, they didn't fit well because they'd first belonged to Dudley.

Neville put his pajamas on. He was shorter than Ron and so the arms and legs were a bit long, but other than that, they seemed to fit all right for the most part.

All three of them climbed into their beds and Ron shut the light off. There wasn't really much talking as they started to drift to sleep.

Neville lay awake for some time. He could leave now. No one was awake. He could just Floo home. But he didn't want to go back to that gloomy old house right now. But what about his plants? They needed special care. As it was, they had been suffering while he was at Hogwarts. Gran just couldn't give them the care they needed. She didn't understand the plants like Neville did. Gran. He hadn't shed a single tear since he left St. Mungos. Was it wrong that he wasn't huddled in a corner now, sobbing? He loved her, really he did. She'd taken care of him for the last 15 years. But she never really understood him. She kept trying to find his father in him, and Frank Longbottom and Neville Longbottom were apparently two very different people. Frank Longbottom was brave and noble; Neville Longbottom wasn't. Neville was a loner. He wondered about what his dad had been like in Hogwarts. Gran never mentioned him having a lot of friends really.

He'd just have to go back and water his plants whenever he needed to. Maybe he could bring some of the more high maintenance ones here for the summer so that he wouldn't have to worry so much. The _mureux pluma_ spent 10 months of the year kind of hibernating, pretty much dead, but in July and August, it always bloomed like there was no tomorrow. It was gorgeous, with red and purple and pink and blue petals that intertwined and blended in such a great harmony. Some of the petals were so soft and light, like goose down. Some of the outside petals were kind of like quills or little spikes. The most amazing thing of all though, was that at dawn, it almost sounded like it was singing with the sun and the breeze washed over its dew-covered petals. Neville almost always woke early in summer to see that plant; he'd had it since fourth year. Some plants, like his precious _Mimbilus Milbletonia _he admired for his their special talents and defenses. The _mureux pluma_ he admired solely for its beauty.

With images of his plants floating around his head. He fell asleep.

Neville woke and wondered what had awakened him. He realized there were sounds coming from Harry's bed. He was talking in his sleep. Neville rolled over and looked at Ron. Harry had woken Ron up too.

Ron put a finger to his lips to tell him not to say anything and jerked his head at the window. He got up and went over to it and Neville followed.

Neville whispered, "Shouldn't we wake him?"

Ron shook his head. "It's been going on for about half an hour. Poor bloke."

"What's he dreaming?"

"Just listen."

Neville closed his eyes and listened.

"No, no, no! Sirius, Sirius, come back. Please…Let go of me, you bloody wolf. I need to get to Sirius. He's just behind that…curtain. You're gonna die, Lestrange…You killed him a… you're gonna die. I'm not gonna…you hurt more people. I'm sorry...I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Mum…Dad…Cedric…Sirius…Please, no…Just go away, all of you. No, don't kill them! Not again, please not again. N…" Interspersed throughout Harry's one-sided conversation were sobs.

Ron looked at his best friend with pity. Then he turned back to Neville. "Poor bloke. You can't escape what's inside your own head. Nobody can." He quietly moved some things off the window ledge and sat down.

"It's not his fault they're dead though, is it?" asked Neville. He didn't think it was. He glanced back at Harry. It was odd to say Harry, the one who always seemed strong and confident, so upset and vulnerable-looking. Sure Harry had had nightmares at Hogwarts, but rarely did they seem this bad.

"Try telling _him_ that. He feels like it is."

"Why?"

Ron's face became thoughtful. "Well, they say that a soldier only feels the guilt for the guy he kills. But the commanding officers, they're responsible for everybody under them that dies and anybody that everyone under him kills. Look at it this way: Harry's one big general. Dumbledore too, I think. Can you imagine it? The weight of the world on your shoulders? Feeling like you've got to look out for everybody and that if anybody gets hurt, it's your fault. _Just_ yours. Nobody else's? It's bad enough to feel that way during the day, but even at night he can't escape it. It's gotten worse this summer. That's why he's here.

"Dumbledore was going to find him somewhere safer but…with all that went on at the Department of Mysteries last year, Mum really wanted him with us and Dumbledore didn't have anywhere better to put him. Mum said that what Harry needs right now is to feel loved and be comforted and told that it's okay to cry about his godfather. I think it's going to take more than that though. Much more." Ron barely even seemed aware that Neville was in the room anymore. It was more like he was talking to himself. "We can't force Harry to talk. Hermione and I have been writing all month discussing it. If we _made_ him tell us everything, it'd only make things worse, I'm sure of it. But he's got to talk sometime. He's got this bad habit of letting everything get real bottled up, and then it just sort of bursts. And when all his bottled up emotions burst…he usually goes and does something stupid. Really stupid."

Neville watched as Harry's hand went to his forehead and he was almost sure that Harry said the word "Voldemort". Now Harry was saying something else.

"How could you do it? Huh? You were supposed to be their friend. One of their best friends. How could you betray them?" Harry muttered.

"Who's that he's talking about now?" whispered Neville. He knew Harry wasn't talking about Voldemort.

"Peter Pettigrew. If I ever find that no good, piece of filth, too horrible to even be the grease in Snape's hair, I'm going to kill him. I'm going to strangle him with my bare hands and kill him."

Neville didn't really know who Pettigrew was other than the old story about Sirius Black killing him. But by now he'd gathered that Sirius Black was innocent. So where did that leave Pettigrew exactly?

Harry had stopped muttering and his breathing slowed again. He looked exhausted, but slowly his face calmed and looked almost peaceful. Ron nodded his head at their beds, satisfied that Harry's trouble was over…for now.

"Did you know he was going to have these nightmares?" whispered Neville.

"I knew he had nightmares after the Tri-Wizard tournament. I woke up a few times when we were staying together over the summer. I don't think the nightmares ever really went away. I figured that after what happened at the end of last year, they'd be worse than before. I was right," Ron said softly. "I didn't want to be right. Don't tell Harry or anyone about any of this. Harry wouldn't understand."

"It's _his_ dreams though. _His_ nightmares." Neville didn't understand exactly what it was that Ron didn't want him to tell. The fact that Ron knew Harry was having nightmares? Or the fact that Ron listened to find out what was going on in Harry's head?

Ron shook his head. "He wouldn't understand that Hermione and I are trying to help. That all of us are. He doesn't want us in danger. Well, it's too late for that. We're in this and we're in this to _stay_. That's all there is to it." He climbed back in bed under the covers and rolled over, facing away from Neville.

Neville lay there for a while, digesting all this new information. Some of it was less shocking than others. As Neville's mind swam on the brink of consciousness, he remembered something he read a very long time ago, in a Muggle book. One of the few he'd ever read. It was a character with a silly name like Merry or some such. What was it he had said? It sounded very much like what Ron had just said. "You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin, to the bitter end. But cannot trust us to let you go off alone. We're your friends." That was it.


	4. Average Weasley Morning

**Disclaimer: **All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** This chappie--as I was requested to call it :D--is 3 times as long as the last one, and all your reviews convinced me to update sooner than I was going to. Today's the 19th and my last update was the 18th, gee this is moving pretty fast. Warning though: after chapter 10 it'll start moving slower, I've got up to 10 pre-written. We're forbidden from reviewer responses, but I wanna say thanks to everybody and respond to at least a couple of comments. Don't tell the mods! Expect an update by Saturday, possibly sooner.

1. I know Ron may have seemed a tad OC last chapter, but I really think that he does have a mature/serious moment everyone once in a while.

2. The obituary issue will be adressed in an upcoming chapter.

3. Yep, that was Merry from Lord of the Rings; I just couldn't help myself.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4: Average Weasley Morning

* * *

**

In the morning, Neville woke up and found himself slightly confused. He could hear snoring. There shouldn't be anyone in his room. Then again, his room shouldn't be orange either. He looked around and saw Ron sprawled out, facedown, on the bed to one side of him. On his other side he saw Harry, still asleep and drooling a little bit out of the corner of his mouth.

It was still fairly early, hardly 7. Neville never tended to sleep this late during the summer. But it didn't look like Ron or Harry would be getting up anytime soon. He went out into the hallway. Maybe he could Floo home and get some clothes and be back before anyone else woke up.

As soon as he entered the stairs, he smelled and heard the sounds of breakfast being made. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone who wasn't already up, he went down into the kitchen where Molly Weasley was cheerfully cooking breakfast.

"Did you sleep alright, dear?" she asked Neville, catching sight of him.

"Fine, thank you," he replied politely, thinking of when he'd woken up to Harry's sleep talking.

"No one gave you a hard time yesterday, did they?"

"No, everyone was very nice."

"That's good. You let me know if any of those freckle-faced louts give you any problems. Why don't you take a seat at the table? I'll have some breakfast ready shortly."

"I can help if you want."

"That's kind, but you don't have to. You could even go back to sleep upstairs if you like. Did I wake you?"

"No, I tend to wake up early in the summer."

"Really? It's impossible to get the boys in this house up early any time of the year. But Arthur and Percy should be down shortly and Bill shouldn't be much longer than them."

Neville started helping her with breakfast.

"Happy Birthday," she said, recalling what he'd said the night before.

"Oh, thanks. I'd pretty much forgotten with all that's happened. I woke up this morning and didn't know where I was for a minute."

"That happens to all of us sometime," she said. "I'm here if you want to talk, you know. I'm a very good listener," she said kindly.

"I don't think I'm ready to talk. I…haven't told the others why I'm here. Only you and Ginny."

"Arthur knows too. I told him last night. The others are going to find out sooner or later. Her name is going to appear in the obituaries column in _The Prophet _either today or tomorrow," she said gently.

"I hadn't thought about that," Neville said, realizing how stupid he was. At least when they found out, Ron might stop thinking he was a spy.

"Morning, Molly," greeted Arthur, coming down the stairs.

"Good morning," she replied.

"Ah, Neville, isn't it? Good morning to you too."

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley."

"Are Bill and Percy on their way down yet?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I think Percy is in the shower now. I don't know about Bill." Arthur told her, taking a seat at the table.

"I don't want him to be late for work. I'm so happy Bill's still working in London a while longer. And Charlie too. I missed them so much when they were away for so long. It's so nice to have everyone living at home. I'm glad Percy came back to us. I was afraid of losing him forever."

Neville noticed that Mr. Weasley didn't look quite as happy as she did about this, but he was still glad to have his son back. Especially since it made Molly happy. Neville suddenly wondered just how many people were currently living under this roof. Well there were the seven Weasley children, plus Harry and Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and now himself. So that made it 12 people. Twelve. That was certainly a lot of people. He was so used to it only being Gran and himself.

He worked up enough nerve to ask, "Since I'm staying, is it okay if I bring a couple of my plants back with me today? Some of them need attention a couple of times a day during this time of the year."

"Of course, dear. There's the garden out back. Or if you have them in pots you could keep them in Ron's room."

Percy, dressed and ready for work, came downstairs, said his good mornings, and took the plate of food his mother offered him. He sat down at the table.

Neville watched as Bill pretty much dragged Charlie down the stairs and too the table.

Charlie sat down heavily at the table, obviously tired and wishing he were still asleep.

"What are you doing down so early?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Bill said that if _he_ couldn't sleep in, neither could I," Charlie said grumpily, smearing some marmalade on his toast. "I don't even have to be at work until 11."

"What are you complaining about? You kept me up with your snoring half the night anyway," Bill told him, spooning some eggs onto his plate.

"I wasn't snoring, that was Percy. Honestly, Perce sounds like a foghorn."

"I do _not_ snore. Personally I think both of you should sleep on the couches in the living room ," Percy said. "All of Charlie's clothes smell like dragon dung and smoke, and _you_ talk in your sleep, Bill."

"They do _not_," retorted Charlie, sniffing experimentally at the sleeve of his pajamas.

"Yes they do," Percy said.

"Your clothes all look like they came from the Society of Dorks United," Bill said, eyeing Percy's Ministry robes. Compared to the sweater-vests Percy wore on outings to the Muggle world, the official Ministry robes were an improvement.

"As opposed to your classy ensemble?" Percy asked distastefully.

"What's wrong with the way I look?" Bill asked indignantly.

"Your hair is too long, it's too hot out to wear leather, and earrings are for girls," Percy snapped critically.

Bill's mouth moved wordlessly. Percy had attacked the very core principals of his style.

Charlie, Bill, and Percy all started bickering loudly.

"ENOUGH!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, looming over her three sons and holding a wooden spoon with bits of scrambled egg on it. "Now, I want all of you to apologize stop fighting! That is no way to behave! You're supposed to be setting a good example for the younger children!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy and had all slid down in their seats. They were looking shame-faced and sheepish, and feeling about two inches tall. "Yes, Mum," they said.

"Apologize to each other now."

There was a muttered round of "sorry".

"That's better," she said. "Now I don't want to hear anymore bickering this morning. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mum," they said sulkily.

Mrs. Weasley turned away from her sons and back to where Neville was standing at the counter. He was afraid she was going to scream at him, even though he hadn't done anything he could think of. Instead, she was entirely kind when she asked, "Why don't you sit down and help yourself to some breakfast, Neville dear?"

"Er, I'm fine."

"No, no, you're a guest. Sit down and I'll fix you a plate." She took him by the shoulders and steered him toward the table and sat him down. "What do you want? Toast? Ham? Sausage? Eggs?"

"Er…"

She fixed him a plate with a little of everything and sat it down in front of him. "Eat. Get some meat on your bones."

Neville knew he couldn't eat half of what was on the plate and felt he had sufficient "meat on his bones." Gran had been talking about cutting down a little and slimming up some this summer. But he started to eat and ate as much as he could; Mrs. Weasley even tried to put more on his plate. The three brothers started to make small talk.

Mr. Weasley and Percy soon left for work. When they'd left, Bill went upstairs to shower and get dressed and said a quick goodbye to his mum before leaving for work. When Bill had left, Charlie was just getting ready to go upstairs and maybe catch a little shut-eye (though Neville suspected he might try and get that letter back from Fred and George).

"Neville, do you want Charlie to go with you to get your things? He doesn't have to leave for almost 3 hours."

"I-I'm not ready to go back over there yet."

"I understand." She squeezed his hand.

He helped her clear the table, and they were almost done when they heard some shouts and clunking noises from upstairs. She went to the bottom of the stairs and called, "What's going on?"

Fred, George, and Charlie called, "Nothing, Mum!" But suspicious noises continued you to float down.

Mrs. Weasley went upstairs and Neville, curious, followed. They entered the twins' room and saw Charlie, Fred, and George wrestling around on the floor. "Give…me…my…letter!" Charlie said.

"No!"

"Just…let…go…of…it!"

"Never! Fred, catch!" George threw a crumpled piece of parchment to Fred.

In all the fighting, the ball of parchment landed under the bed. Charlie saw it and tried to get up, but Fred saw it too. He grabbed Charlie by the hair, "George, get it!"

"FREEZE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

They froze.

"What is going on here?" She said, looking at sons with very guilty expressions. Fred and George immediately changed to their, "What could we have possibly done wrong?" faces.

"You see, this letter got delivered to us by mistake, and we were just trying read it and determine who it belonged to before we gave it to anyone."

"Wasn't there a name on it?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, yes, but not the name of anyone in this house. It said 'Char-Char'. We thought it might be some kind of code…"

"Give Charlie his letter." She started to turn away. "Who is it from, Charlie? Is it that girl you've been seeing? I'd really liked to meet her. Or at least know her name."

Charlie stuffed the ball of parchment in his pocket. "Mum, can't I just say it's somebody you know and I think you'd approve of?"

"But, Charlie, a mother has a right to know," she pleaded.

"We'll tell you, Mum," volunteered George. Normally he and Fred weren't inclined to give information, but it could be useful in easing their punishment. Normally they wouldn't squeal on people either, but this was just too good to pass up.

Mrs. Weasley shot them death glares. "I'll deal with you two later. Come on, Neville, I'll find something of Ron's for you to wear.

Charlie shot a look at the twins, then sized Neville up. Ron was gangly, like Bill was. Charlie and the twins were stockier, a little more solidly built. He noted how the sleeves of the shirt Neville was wearing and the hem of the pants were all too long and Neville looked like the sort who tripped fairly easily. "Neville looks like Fred or George's clothes would fit better than Ron's."

"You're right," Mrs. Weasley said, turning and looking the boy over. "I hadn't considered that possibility. Fred, George, find Neville something to wear. I've got to go take care of some laundry."

When Mrs. Weasley was out of earshot, Charlie glared at Fred and George, "You're going to pay for this."

"Says who? We could still tell who sent you the letter."

"Fine. I don't care who knows."

Fred took a deep breath, "Ro—"

Charlie clamped at hand over his mouth.

George grinned and took a deep breath, "Har—"

Charlie clamped a hand over his mouth too. "Don't even think about it." He turned his head to see Neville, still in the doorway, "I'll see you later, Neville. Give a shout if these two get on your nerves."

Neville just nodded.

"Alrighty, Neville, let's see what we've got here. Do you want Muggle clothes, or robes?"

"These jeans look like they'll fit him," Fred said.

"And this shirt?" George asked his twin.

"No, I like this one better."

"No, I don't think so. How about this?"

"With these jeans?"

"No, those jeans."

Neville went over and sat at the desk while Fred and George were going through clothes and trying to decide what to have him wear. Neville checked out the things on the desk. There were order forms for the joke shop (some of them filled out), a small stack of wands, and some sweets. Neville started leafing through the order forms and reading item descriptions. A lot of the things were pretty ingenious. He saw a toffee and figured it couldn't hurt to have just one. It wasn't going to be like those Canary Creams or anything. Neville popped the small candy in his mouth. Something wasn't right. Something definitely wasn't right. His tongue was starting to swell and it was growing worse by the second. Maybe it was an allergic reaction or something. "Fweb? Worge?" he said thickly.

They didn't seem to hear him.

"Fweb! Worge!" he said, he was barely able to talk now and he was starting to really choke. He got out of his chair and started pulling on their sleeves. His tongue was nearing about 2 ½ feet long now.

"Just a minute, Neville," George said, without turning around.

Neville's tongue was 3 feet now. He kicked George and Fred both in the shins and they finally turned around.

"What is it? Can't you see we're making some critical fashion choices here?" That's when they saw him.

"Why did he have to eat the _toffee_?" asked Fred miserably.

"Where's your wand?" asked George.

"Under the bed somewhere. I'm not sure. Yours?" asked Fred.

"It's over there, in that stack of fake wands," his twin replied dejectedly.

Neville was really having trouble breathing now and neither seemed to be getting their wand out. Fred got on his knees and was searching for his wand under his bed, and George started search through the fake wands on the desk, trying wands until he found his. The others turned into rubber chickens and plastic mice. "I got it!" He gave the counter-spell and Neville found his tongue shrinking and he could gradually breathe again. "Sorry about that, you were going a bit blue in the face." He brought the chair to Neville and sat him down.

"On the plus side, we've picked an absolutely smashing ensemble for you to wear."

"Yeah. It's really great. Much better than anything you could have found in Ickle-Ronniekins's closet."

Neville blinked. _Ickle-Ronniekins? Is that what Ron's family called him when nobody else was around?_ He tried not to laugh.

"First off we've got blue jeans. Everybody loves denim, right?" Fred tossed the jeans at Neville and they landed on his head.

"Next we've got this fabulous shirt." George tossed Neville an orange shirt that landed on him, hanging by his ear. White lettering on the back said: MESS WITH ME AND I'LL USE WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES TO MAKE YOUR LIFE A NIGHTMARE. The front had large twin faces looking cross-eyed and having their tongue sticking out. It wasn't a photograph; it was more like someone had drawn it with white ink. The only defining feature on the faces was the sprinkling of freckles on either side of the nose. "You can keep the shirt. It's a promotional item. We've got dozens."

"And to complete the outfit, we've got a snazzy dragon-hide jacket. You can't keep it, but you can wear it today," Fred tossed the jacket at Neville and Neville managed to catch this one with his hands.

"Do you want to borrow some boots? Your sneaks aren't going to look right with that jacket. What size are you? You look to be about the same as me."

Neville told him.

"Yeah, actually, I think I've got a pair that a little snug on me that should work for you."

"Thanks," Neville said.

"No, problem. You just remember to wear that shirt when you go to Diagon Alley and we'll call it even. We could use the advertising."

"Do you need to use the shower?"

"I can wait, if you guys have to get ready for work or something," Neville said.

"We were gonna try to be in by nine today," George said.

"I'll take the first shower," said Fred. Fred grabbed a towel off the floor and left the room.

"You want to see some of our latest products?" asked George.

"Only if you promise not to test them on me," Neville said warily.

George laughed. "Deal. You learn fast. That toffee you tasted was one of our original creations." He picked up different objects on the desk one by one and showed them off. "These are new. Catnap Blow-darts. They're like peashooters, and when you shoot the dart and it hits somebody, they pass out for about five minutes or so. It's actually pretty useful. Over here we've got Loud-Mouth Lollipops. They make you go mostly deaf for about ten minutes, and you end up talking really loud whether you mean to or not. We mixed a _Sonorus_ charm in with it. Pretty good actually. And in this jar we've got the latest model for our fireworks. I can't let them out of the jar 'cause it's almost impossible to get them back in." He picked up an ordinary looking quill. "This project is still in the developing stages, but when we're done it's going to be a quill that, when you start writing with it, it starts writing on it's own and starts insulting you. We've got it to the point where it can do insults, like _I'm such a prat, and I don't even have good looks to help me get by_. But we can't figure out how to personalize it with names and stuff. Maybe we can hex them for personalization as we sell them. But I'm not sure yet."

Fred came back in with a towel around his waist. "Bathroom's free, George. Neville, I think Ron and Harry sounded like they were awake."

"Thanks," George grabbed a towel hanging on the bedpost and left.

Neville thanked Fred for the clothes and went up to Ron's room. He heard voices inside. "He's not here. You don't think he ran away or something, do you?" asked Ron.

"I don't think so. He's not really the running away sort."

"I could tell Mum wanted him to stay here. If he's gone she's gonna kill me."

"Relax. He's probably just downstairs or something."

"Does he usually get up early?"

"Er, not that I can remember."

"Mum is going to kill me. This'll be worse than the time I took Gin's favorite doll and forgot where I hid it."

"Look, Neville can take care of himself. He probably went out for some air or something."

"Look out the window. Do you see him anywhere?"

"No," Harry admitted.

"Mum is going to bury me alive."

Neville decided it was his cue to come in. "Good morning," he said, coming in and dropping the clothes on his bed.

"Where you been?" asked Ron.

Neville shrugged. "With your brothers and your parents. Kinda nice. I'm an only child, you know."

"Did you get a good night's sleep last night?"

"Oh, yeah. Fine." Neville said.

Harry blinked as though just remembering something. "Happy Birthday, Neville."

Neville was surprised. "How'd you know it was my birthday?"

"Somebody told me you had the same birthday as me, and I just remembered what day it is."

"Happy Birthday to both of you," Ron said. "Anybody want breakfast?"

"I ate. I've been up for a couple of hours," Neville explained.

"Well, I'm starved," Harry said. He turned to Ron, "I've been waiting all summer for your Mum's cooking."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, she knows how those Muggles treat you, so she always tries to fatten you up when you come over."

The three of them started downstairs. When they got to the kitchen, Ginny and Hermione were already at the table. Like the boys, they'd come down in their pajamas (unlike the boys, the girls had brushed their hair). Fred and George were dressed and almost done eating since they were leaving for the shop soon.

"Good morning, Ron, Harry, Neville," Mrs. Weasley said, giving them each a plate piled with food. She looked at Neville again, "Didn't Fred and George give you something to wear?" She shot a look at her aforementioned sons.

Neville hurriedly explained, "Oh no. They gave me something to wear. I just didn't get dressed yet."

"Good. Then I don't have to strangle them this time."

Hermione looked at the new arrivals, "Good morning, Ron, Harry, Neville."

Ginny didn't bother to greet her brother or Harry other than a nod as they sat down. When everyone else was talking again, she asked Neville quietly, "How are you doing?"

"Not too bad, I guess."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ginny asked.

"I'll be fine," he said.

"What are you kids doing today?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"I vote for Quidditch," said Ron. "We've got half the Gryffindor team here, after all."

"It's too hot outside to fly. I want to go swimming. There's enough water in the pond," said Ginny.

"We could always walk down to the village and catch a movie. I've got some Muggle money on me," suggested Hermione.

"Harry? Neville? It's your birthday today," Mrs. Weasley reminded them.

"Quidditch sounds good to me," said Harry.

Neville weighed his options. He still couldn't really fly, and he was still afraid of heights. So he really didn't want to do Quidditch. He wasn't crazy about swimming either. "I've never really spent much time with Muggles. Going down to the village sounds good," he finally said.

Mrs. Weasley looked worried and chewed on her lip. "The village is outside of the new wards that were set up. If something happened to all of you…"

"We'll be fine, Mum," Ron said. "It's not like we can't take care of ourselves."

"But you're not allowed use magic in the summer. You'll be completely unprotected. I'll come with you," Mrs. Weasley said brightly.

"Mum!" whined Ron.

Harry frantically flipped through his mind, trying to think of a cooler chaperone. Lupin wouldn't be bad. But who else was there? "Tonks. We could ask Tonks to come if she's got the day off," he offered.

Ron and Ginny mouthed across the table, "Thank you!"

"I suppose…" Mrs. Weasley said dubiously.

Hermione said, "Tonks is a fully trained Auror. Who better qualified to take care of us?"

"I'll Owl her and see if she's busy. All of you finish up your breakfast. You're not eating, Neville?"

"I'm still full from my first breakfast, thank you."

"Nonsense. You barely touched your plate. Eat up." She went out to go look for some parchment.

Neville wondered to himself how the whole Weasley household wasn't overweight with the way she was insisting on overfeeding him.

"Fred, George? Are you gonna tell us who was writing to Charlie?" Ron asked, before stuffing a forkful of food in his mouth.

Fred and George looked at each other and started laughing. "So much to learn, little brother. As long as you don't know, we can hold it over your head and make you do whatever we want until we see fit to tell you."

"Hey, we _have_ been looking for some new product testers, Fred. What do you think of hiring them?"

"Yeah, that's a great idea. I really don't want to test anymore of those, what did we name them? Face-making flatulence inducers. They're going to be something of an 'I hate Valentines Day' Candy. Or maybe 'Sweets for Your Enemies'. Names will probably change. But I'm sure you can understand what they do. The only problem is the side affects we've been having with them."

"What sort of side effects?" Ron asked cautiously. It had to be bad if even the twins wouldn't take them anymore.

"Er, part of the gag is that you make terrible faces, but our faces seem to be getting stuck that way. Last night I had one eye shut and my tongue sticking out for half an hour."

"There are other side effects too. Less pleasant. But we won't mention them in polite company," George said, winking at Hermione and Ginny.

Ginny snorted. "This from the guy who tried to get me to eat Skiving Snackboxes when they were still in their testing stage? I don't think so. There's no way I'm ending up with boils on my butt like the two of you did."

Neville, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny all laughed.

Fred and George left the table. "Us geniuses are so under-appreciated. These kids have no idea what kind of pain and effort goes into all our work!" They Disapperated with a small pop of imploding air each.

"I wish I knew who Charlie was dating," Ginny said sourly. "I hate being left out of secrets."

Ron said, "Yeah. It must be pretty embarrassing if it's somebody so awful he won't tell us."

Hermione reasoned, "Maybe, he likes her so much he doesn't want to risk having his brothers scare her away." She had to hide her grin behind a piece of toast as Ron looked at her indignantly.

Ginny grinned at Neville and whispered, "It's so much fun to watch the two of them fight." Then she raised her voice, "I think Hermione is right. If I liked a guy, I wouldn't tell any of my brothers. They'd probably want to beat him to a bloody pulp."

Ron glared at her. "Well, I don't want you dating anybody. Behind my back or not. You're too young. Much too young."

"Ron, I'm fifteen. If I want to date, I'm going to date. And I'll probably be dating before you. I might have to make sure you get a girlfriend just so that I can keep you out of my business."

Ron gritted his teeth. "Harry, remind me to kill Dean when we get back to school."

"Or better yet, give him untested Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products," suggested Harry.

"Why would you guys want to do anything to Dean?" asked Ginny.

"On the train you said—"

Ginny gave a snort of laughter. "That was a joke. I picked a name at random. Geeze, the one time you actually listen and remember…"

"I still wish I knew who Charlie was dating," Ron said, changing the subject.

"He said that it was someone your mum knew and would approve of," offered Neville.

"How did you find that out?" asked Ron.

Neville shrugged. "I got up early and had breakfast with your older brothers before they went to work. Charlie got into a brawl with Fred and George upstairs. He got his letter back."

"Where is Charlie anyway?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know. He said he didn't have to be at work until eleven. Maybe he went back to sleep. He was mad about being woken up early."

Mrs. Weasley came back into the room.

"Did you send the letter, Mum?" asked Ginny.

"I ran into Charlie on the stairs and he didn't have anything to do, so he said he'd take it over for me."

"That was nice of him. We'll be able to get a response faster that way than waiting for an owl to come back," said Hermione.

"Why don't all of us go upstairs and get dressed and then we can be ready when Charlie gets back with Tonks's answer?"

"Good idea."

As the five of them went up the stairs, Neville asked, "What sort of a name is Tonks?"


	5. Day at the Movies

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** Short-ish chapter and not so interesting I guess. Things get better, I promise, so just bear with me on the tough chapters. The next to chapters after this are fantastic in my opinion. Hope you don't think this chapter is too horrible; it mostly just sets things up.

On the Fred and George fashion note—I think that not having had money and always wanting it (their business ambitions seem to suggest so anyway) would make them a little more in tune with what they wear. After all just a few months after their store opened in Diagon Alley they were seen in Dragon hide jackets, very stylish.

On the pairing note—as I've said before, I say neither yay not nay to any pairing questions. I've had guessings on a few pairings so far. You can keep guessing but you'll just have to wait and read to find out for sure.

Next chapter goes up on SUNDAY. Please review.

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**CHAPTER 5: Day at the Movies

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Neville was getting dressed upstairs with Ron and Harry. Ron rummaged through his drawers, looking for Muggle clothes. Harry dug out jeans and a shirt that were too big for him. The jeans wouldn't even have stayed up if Harry hadn't found a grungy old belt. Neville, the best dressed of the three, wore clothes Fred and George had given him.

When they were dressed they went down and knocked on Ginny's door. "Gin? Herms? Are you ready yet?" Harry called through the door.

"No!" yelled Ginny.

"If you open the door, I'll kill you, Harry!" Hermione replied.

Ron snickered. "I dare you to open the door, Harry."

"Not on my life. The two of them would kill me twice before I hit the ground."

The door opened a few minutes later and Ginny and Hermione came out.

"I don't remember that outfit, Gin," Ron said suspiciously.

"It's mine. Doesn't really fit me anymore," Hermione said.

"Stop looking at me like that, Ron. Neville, Harry, is there anything wrong with what I'm wearing?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes and turning once in a circle.

"No," said Harry.

"Not a thing," added Neville. Ginny was wearing snug jeans and a sleeveless blue shirt. Nothing wrong with what she was wearing, he thought to himself.

Ginny added, "Don't give Hermione a hard time about what she's wearing either, Ron."

Ron blinked, looking at Hermione. "I wasn't going to."

"Hypocrite," muttered Ginny.

Hermione was wearing denim shorts and a pink top with a white heart on the front. "I know all this stuff is a little small on me but it's not like I'm home over the holidays to go shopping. I'm always here. Maybe I'll shop a bit in the village today."

"You don't need to," Ron said.

Before Hermione could ask what he meant, a voice from downstairs called them all down to the living room.

Charlie Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks were waiting down there. "What took you so long to get here?" asked Ron.

"We had to check in with Dumbledore and see if he had any objections to this expedition," explained Tonks.

"It's just a trip into a Muggle village. It's not like Ottery St. Catchpole is even that far away. We walk it," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"I know, Harry, but always remember…CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" She winked at him and laughed.

The rest of them laughed too. "That's the best Mad-Eye impression I've ever heard," Ron said.

"I had him as an Auror instructor for 3 years. Not mention having him as my personal tutor for one of the years. Every Auror-in-training has to pick one of the teachers to take on as a personal instructor for their final year," Tonks explained.

"Where's Headquarters?" asked Ron, trying to catch Tonks off-guard.

"Ah, can't tell you. Top secret information, you know," she said.

Ron scowled at her.

Tonks ignored him and looked at Neville. "Now who are you? You look familiar."

Neville remembered where he'd seen her before. "I was at the Department of Mysteries last year."

"Yeah, I remember that. But no, I mean from somewhere else. I just can't think of where. It'll come to me."

"If you're all ready, we should get going," Charlie said.

"You're coming?" asked Hermione, a little surprised.

"I figured even if I've got to work and can't stay, I can at least provide some extra protection walking all of you down the hill. So, let's get a move on. I'm supposed to be at work in an hour."

Ron and Hermione in the lead, the seven of them left the house and started down the hill in the direction of the village. Charlie and Tonks, no doubt discussing Order business, fell behind the younger students. Ginny, standing between Neville and Harry stuck her arms out and they each looped an arm through hers. She grinned at them. "I've got a birthday boy on each arm."

"Does that mean we each get a birthday wish?" asked Harry.

"I'll think about it," she said. After a moment she planted a kiss on Harry's cheek, and then one on Neville's cheek. "Happy Birthday."

Harry blinked, surprised, and Neville put a hand to his cheek.

Ginny laughed at them. "Harry, I think you two have more in common than you and Ron do," she said.

"Really? What makes you say that?" they asked.

"Well, for one thing, you've both got dark hair. For another, you're both only children who don't live with their parents. I mean, why would two kids who are lucky enough not to have to deal with annoying brothers want to come spend their summer in a house that has seven?"

"The same reason I come every summer. You guys are like family to me. Remember, I'm an honorary Weasley," Harry said. "Besides, just about anything is better than staying with the Dursleys."

Neville said, "I needed to get away. To clear my head and think a little after what happened."

Harry assumed Neville was talking about the Department of Mysteries incident, but Ginny knew better. She knew the real reason that had driven Neville to the Burrow for the summer. She changed the subject. "Look at those two," she pointed. "Flirting and they don't even know it."

"Them? Not in a million years."

"Yes, them. How can you possibly miss it? Everyone knows. Right, Neville?"

"She's right, Harry. If there was ever an obvious couple, it's Ron and Hermione."

Harry just looked at them. "Am I the only one who doesn't know this?" he asked finally.

Ginny grinned. "Don't worry. Ron and Hermione don't know it either. But of course that's only a matter of time."

They were at the edge of the village now. Charlie said, "I've got to go. I'm better off Disapparating here before somebody spots me. G'bye, everybody." And with that, he Disapparated.

Tonks moved up to the head of the line with Ron and Hermione. "Do you know how to get where we're going?" she asked him.

"Yeah. I've been here more than a few times," Ron said.

"Lead the way to the cinema then."

"It's at the other end of the town. This area just has some houses and stuff," Ron said, throwing his head over his shoulder to tell Harry and Neville. He stopped and his eyes narrowed. "Ginny, those are boys. Let go of them."

Ginny gave a fake gasp of shock, "Really?" She continued, "I hadn't noticed. Neville, Harry, why didn't you _tell_ me you were boys? Now I've got to go get a cootie shot."

Everyone but Ron, who looked very annoyed, burst out in a fit of laughter.

They continued on their way, but Ron looked back suspiciously at Harry and Neville every so often.

When they were passed the residential area and near the shops, they all grouped together more and started looking in the windows. Hermione noted which shops she wanted to stop in after the movie. Harry looked approvingly at one of the displays. "I need Muggle clothes that actually fit."

"Why don't you get some then?" asked Neville.

Harry laughed. "I haven't had any pocket money from the Muggles in years."

"You could always trade it in at Gringotts. They do switch Galleons for pounds, just like the switch pounds for Galleons with Muggleborns. It only takes a few minutes. But I'm kinda scared of those goblins," Neville admitted.

"Why didn't I ever think of that?" Harry asked Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know. It's not as if you haven't seen me switch money there almost every year."

They approached the cinema. Tonks said, "Dumbledore said he'd treat for the movie. He keeps some Muggle cash on hand. I just don't know how to use it." She handed a stack of bills to Hermione.

"What does everyone want to see?"

They looked at their movie choices (it was a small theatre and they were only playing two movies) and settled on _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. Ron wasn't happy that Hermione had chosen a kiddy movie for them (after Hermione explained that it was a cartoon, and explained what exactly a cartoon was).

"I'm sorry, but I don't think the other movie was appropriate," she said.

"What was wrong with it? It's based on that Shakespeare guy I've heard you talk about," Ron said, pointing at the movie Hermione had rejected.

"Not on your life, Ronald Weasley," she said tersely.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Harry. "It's just a retelling of Romeo and Juliet."

Hermione glared at him. "I looked into it earlier this summer when my friend wanted me to see it with her last week. The director completely ruined a classic. Honestly, 'Romeo' is driving around in a car shooting people. Whatever happened to swordsmanship? And don't even get me started on Leonardo DiCaprio, the guy they have playing Romeo. He was only cast for the part because people think he's so good looking. We're not seeing that movie."

Ron muttered to Harry, "Did she say she has friends we don't know about?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno."

Hermione rolled her eyes at them. "I do have a life, you know. The two of you _aren't_ the center of the universe." She approached the counter. "Six tickets for _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_, please," she said. She handed the money to the guy in the booth and he passed her the tickets.

Inside, they bought a couple of large drinks, a large bag of M&Ms, two big bags of popcorn, and a pack of gummy bears. They went inside to the movie and sat down in a long line.

"Pass the gummy bears," Tonks whispered to Neville.

Neville turned to Ginny, "Pass the gummy bears."

Ginny poked Harry, "Pass the gummy bears."

Harry nudged Ron, "Pass the gummy bears."

Ron said to Hermione, "Pass the gummy bears."

Hermione gave the bag of gummy bears to Ron, who gave it to Harry, who gave it to Ginny, who gave it to Neville, who finally gave it to Tonks. Similar snack switches occurred throughout the rest of the movie.

Neville was somewhat interested in the movie. There was a lot of spontaneous group singing in it, but he found out from Hermione that that happened in a lot of cartoons. He was particularly fond of one song. It was sung by the character Esmerelda, the gypsy girl, and it was called "God Help the Outcasts." It was a very beautiful song he thought and certainly had the right idea about it.

After the movie ended and Quasimodo was accepted by townspeople, Frollo was dead, and Esmerelda and Phoebus lived happily ever after, they got up and Ron said loudly that he was starved and would soon die if he didn't get anything to eat soon.

Ginny and Hermione agreed that maybe it would be best if nobody ever fed Ron again.

In the end they all decided on having lunch would be a good idea after all and agreed that Ron should probably eat too _if_ it was really necessary for him to eat.

Neville didn't like to get in the middle of anyone else's fights and decided to stick by Harry and Tonks for a while.


	6. Ottery St Catchpole

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** I think this chapter is a lot better than the last one (though not as much as the next one), but that might just be me. Hope you like it. If you do, then review! Hehe. I rhymed. Sorry. Lame jokes today.

If anybody wants to see what the little characters on the promotional shirt that Fred and George gave Neville, they're posted on my deviantart site. Here's the link http/ If it doesn't work, the link to my DeviantArt page is in my profile.

Hunchback of Notredame (I love that movie) and Romeo and Juliet both came out in the year the story takes place, that's why I picked those 2 movies.

**Fly-away-free--**Sorry, that wasn't supposed to be a particularly Leo bashing moment; it was supposed to be a Romeo and Juliet bashing moment. I like the 1966 version better. For goodness sakes the '96 version replaced the rapiers with guns that said "Rapier" on the side and put them in cars. I just really didn't like the modern version. The only Leo movies I've seen are Titanic (which I think I only saw once) and Romeo and Juliet, so I can't make a fair assessment on him. And Catch Me if You Can. I LOVED him in that movie.

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**Chapter 6: Ottery St. Catchpole**

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They walked down the street together, passing the time. Hermione and Ginny looked at some outfits that they decided to come back and try on later without the boys. Harry saw a few things he wanted to come back for after he'd been to Gringotts.

"I'm hungry," Ron repeated.

"We're on our way to get something to eat," Hermione chided. "How about that sandwich shop? There's nice outdoor seating and everything. We can fit all six of us around that table, I think, if we grab a couple of chairs from another table."

They went inside and ordered sandwiches (courtesy of Dumbledore of course) and went to sit outside. A pimple-faced teenager soon brought out six sodas for them and said their sandwiches would be ready in about ten minutes.

They sat around the table. Hermione tried to discuss the movie, but Ron just rolled his eyes and said it was lame.

She glared at him. "I thought it was enjoyable. Really. The prejudice against the gypsies in that movie was just like the prejudice some people have toward Muggleborns." She said the end of the sentence quietly in case anyone passing by happened to be listening. She didn't want them to hear the word "Muggleborns."

"She's got a point, Ron," Harry said, shrugging.

Tonks diplomatically changed the subject. "What's everybody doing for the summer?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "We're all staying at the Burrow and we're going to be bored out of our skulls, that's what we're doing."

"There's got to be something interesting," Tonks pressed.

"Nothing more than usual," Ron said. "Quidditch, Gobstones, chess, maybe swimming if there's enough water."

"Homework," Hermione added, glaring at him.

"Yeah, that too, I guess," Ron said sulkily.

There was a somewhat awkward silence broken by Neville, "I'm going to take care of my plants. Some of them need attention more than once a day this time of year."

The guy inside said over the crackly speaker, "Number 37, your order is ready. Number 37, get your sandwiches or I'll eat 'em myself."

"I'll go get the sandwiches," Hermione offered. "Come on, Ron, Harry." She all but dragged them from the table.

"I took N.E.W.T. Herbology. I barely passed. Transfiguration was my best subject. McGonagall said I had kind of a natural knack for it." She glanced around to make sure no one was looking and changed her nose into that of a pig and back. She winked at Neville. "Just a little trick of mine."

Neville laughed and Tonks snapped her fingers and shot up from the table.

"I've got it! That smile. I know where I recognize you from," she grinned.

"Where?" he asked, blinking.

"The ATA. The Aurors' Training Academy. You look just like…you're a spitting image of Alice Longbottom. Are you two related? What'd you say your last name was?"

Neville's face paled visibly. "I didn't say. It's Longbottom. She's my mother."

Tonks looked at him with admiration. "Frank and Alice are famous. More successful ops in their 8 months of being Aurors than anybody else in so short a time. Well, except maybe Moody. Their picture is up on the wall there. I'm sure if they knew about how you acted at the Ministry, they'd be proud of you."

Neville looked away from her, embarrassed.

"Did you ever consider being an Auror?" she pressed tactlessly.

"I don't think I did well enough on my OWLs to make it in, but we didn't get the results yet."

"I'm sure you did fine. I managed to get into Snape's N.E.W.T. class and he hated me."

"Really?" Neville asked.

"Sure. He can't touch the O.W.L.s. Honestly, if he'd been the one giving them I wouldn't have passed."

"I did feel less nervous without him standing over me."

"You probably did great. Potions and Herbology actually have a lot in common. I hated having that old bat over me. It's no wonder Sirius never liked him. I heard my mum say that the fighting between Sirius and Snape went back to before Hogwarts. I think Snape was even maybe supposed to marry one of my mum's sisters. I'm not sure. We don't go too much into family history. It's really not worth it when you look at most of my family."

Ron, Harry, and Hermione passed out the sandwiches and sat down.

Harry was trying and failing to sound casual, "How well did you know Sirius?"

Tonks banged the heel of her hand against her forehead. "Idiot!" she muttered to herself. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so tactless sometimes. Bringing him up like that. Anybody wanna change the subject to _anything_ else?"

Ron grinned. "Anybody wanna place bets on who Charlie's mystery girl is?" Hermione said, "Isn't that a little insensitive? I mean placing bets on who he's dating…" "I'm in," said Ginny. "Maybe he stole Penny Clearwater from Percy and that's why he won't tell. She was too good for Percy anyway." "Hey, maybe it's that cute assistant he works with," said Ron. "The brunette with the killer blue eyes. The one that always has her hair down…" "Her? I don't think so. What sort of idiot wears their hair down when working with highly flammable creatures?" Ginny said. 

Ron snorted. "The kind that wants a date."

"What about you, Tonks?" asked Harry, stopping Ginny and Ron's argument.

"Me?" she asked.

"You probably spend a lot of time with Charlie. Who's he dating?"

"I can't really say…"

"So he _did_ tell you!" Ron said triumphantly.

"Yeah, he told me, but I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Can't you at least give us a hint?" Hermione was curious in spite of herself.

"I could, but Charlie took a leaf out of your book, Hermione. I heard about what you did to Marietta Edgecomb. He threatened to hunt me down and give me that boil hex if I told any of you who he was dating."

Hermione blushed. "How'd you know about Marietta?"

"Kingsley squealed. Hey, I think it was a ruddy brilliant idea of you, bewitching that parchment. She had to go to St. Mungos, I think, to get the boils removed. You're an accomplished witch. Very advanced work. Have you ever thought about going into spell research and development?"

"No. I haven't really considered a career yet," she said.

Her friends stared at her in shock. Hermione _had_ thought a lot about careers, she just hadn't settled on one. Somebody like Hermione not thinking about what she wanted to do after school was just incomprehensible.

They all continued to talk for another hour or so as they ate their sandwiches.

"Did Dumbledore say we're allowed to come back here?" asked Harry.

"Sure…as long as you have a chaperone who can do magic."

"Tonks! That's not fair."

"It's not my rules. You lot have a way of finding trouble whether you want to or not. I think you can handle yourselves, but it's not up to me. I'll come see you on my days off though. See, the price of being allowed to do magic is that I actually have to work," Tonks said. "Seriously, if there was a way to get around the restriction of under-aged wizardry and let you do magic, I'd convince Dumbledore into letting you. But I don't think he'd need convincing, honestly."

"What about Diagon Alley? Is that off-limits too?"

"You're allowed to go to Diagon Alley if you have a group escort approved by Dumbledore."

"That's not fair!" said Harry angrily.

"All of us? Nobody wants to kill me," Ron said.

"That's probably not true, Ron," Harry said quietly. "I don't think anybody at this table is safe. If they are, they won't be for long."

"Come on, I saw you eyeing some outfits in the windows earlier. Let's go shopping," Tonks said with a grin. "Dumbledore's buying."

"I don't feel like shopping," Harry said.

"Come on, Harry," wheedled Ginny. "It'll take your mind off things. Besides, it's your birthday. The number one birthday rule is 'no worries.' We should all go."

Eventually, Harry was coaxed into relaxing and everyone went shopping. The first shop they went into was mainly girls' clothing, so Harry, Ron, and Neville sat on a bench while the girls went into dressing rooms. Tonks decided that she felt like shopping too.

Ron sat moodily with his head in his hands. Hermione hadn't liked any of his suggestions for what she should wear. Ginny hadn't liked any of his suggestions for her either. It was understandable; Ron had chosen a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants for his sister, and nearly the opposite for Hermione. Ginny had preferred the outfit he had picked for Hermione.

Harry asked Neville, "Is this how you figured on spending your birthday? Sitting in a store, waiting while the girls tried on clothes?"

"Not really. I planned on having cake with Gran, tending my plants in the backyard, maybe visiting my mum and dad…" He shrugged. "My Gran…" He was this close to telling him, and stopped. "Never mind."

"Alright." Harry had sensed that Neville was going to tell him something important, but if he wasn't ready or didn't want to tell him, he wouldn't force him. He knew what it was like to not want to talk about something. Whatever it was, it could wait.

"What would you be doing today if you weren't with the Weasleys?"

"You mean, if I was back on Privet Drive with the Dursleys?"

"Yeah."

"I'd be sitting at home in my room. I'd be reading my letters and looking at my photo album." He gave a little bit of a laugh. "I'd probably be starving. Have you noticed yet how Mrs. Weasley makes you and me eat like three servings?"

"Yeah. When I came in last night she cooked me so much food, and then she tried to make me sit down and have breakfast twice today."

"You'll get used to it," Harry said. "The first summer I showed up, before second year, she said was much too skinny. She still thinks I am."

Ron looked up. "You _were_ too skinny, Harry. Those Muggles were starving you. They'd been starving you for 11 years."

Neville blinked at them. "Just how bad was it?"

"They had him locked in his room. Bars on his windows. They fed him through a little hole in the door. We had to come break him out." Ron stopped abruptly as though realizing he'd said too much already.

Neville hadn't realized how bad Harry had had it. At least Gran was kind to him. Sure she was really strict, and he never seemed to be able to live up to her expectations, but she loved him.

Harry grinned a little, deciding he might as well finish the story. "It's no understatement when he says he broke me out of there. Ron, Fred, and George showed up at my window in a flying car. They tied these ropes to the bars and revved up the engine and drove until the bars came out. Fred and George walked into my room through the window. They picked the lock on the door of my room, got my trunk out from where it was locked up downstairs, and got me out of there just as my uncle came in."

"That was the year we showed up to Hogwarts in the flying car after we missed the train," Ron explained.

"Hey, we're coming out now," Ginny's said through the curtain.

They boys turned around to see.

Ginny, Tonks, and Hermione came out of the dressing rooms about the same time, as though they'd planned it that way (which they probably had).

Hermione had on a sleeveless green striped top and a modest, knee-length denim skirt

Tonks had snug black jeans and a white top on.

Ginny was wearing a rather flattering yellow top with denim shorts. Very few people looked good in yellow (can you say "school bus"?), but Ginny did.

Tonks grinned at them. "We may be shopping for a while. If you'd rather we can go next door and you guys can shop and Hermione, Ginny, and I can come back and shop later."

"We can wait," Harry said.

"Yeah, we're fine here," Ron, said, still staring at Hermione.

"Neville?" asked Ginny.

He gulped involuntarily. "Yeah. We'll stay here."

The girls did a little more shopping and bought a couple of outfits each. The shop a couple of doors down sold mostly boy clothes and the girls were more than happy to help pick out things for the boys to wear. Ron, Harry, and Neville were a little stunned. Not one of these girls had ever expressed a particular urge to shop for clothes that the boys could remember.

Tonks decided to do her job and pay attention to what was going on around them. She bought a paper for Dumbledore and kept surveillance on the store.

Hermione and Ginny were consulting each other. "Well, I think Harry can pick out his own clothes, but Ron and Neville need some help. Who do you want?"

"You can have my brother. I'll work with Neville."

After about half an hour, Hermione and Ginny handed Ron and Neville half a dozen outfits and all but shoved them into dressing rooms. They went to check on Harry while the other two got dressed.

Harry had a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt in his hands.

"We would have thought you had more than this by now."

"I can't decide what to get. I'm sick of green. Everyone always says 'but green brings out your eyes,' but I'm sick of it and it's the Slytherin color."

"Black looks really good on you too, though. This shirt would look great," Hermione said, taking one off a rack.

Hermione and Ginny between them picked out a few good outfits for Harry.

"Now go try them on," Ginny told him.

Harry rolled his eyes and went to an empty dressing room.

"You didn't let Ron take anything orange in, did you?" asked Ginny.

"Of course not. With his hair…" They burst out laughing.

"Don't laugh," said Harry.

"We're coming out now," Ron said.

Ginny and Hermione turned to look at them. Harry was looking good in a black button-down and khakis. Ron was wearing a blue-checkered shirt and gray slacks; blue was definitely his color. Neville was wearing blue jeans and a red polo.

"Very nice, boys," Ginny said. "Now turn so we can see and make sure everything fits."

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes and turned in a circle.

"You too, Neville," said Hermione.

"Our job has been well done, wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

"These boys actually look decently dressed for once."

"Something I thought would never happen," agreed Ginny.

"Are you two going to stop ogling us?" asked Harry.

"We're not _ogling_," retorted Ginny. "We're surveying our work. Try on the next outfits."

When the boys had gone through all the outfits the girls had picked out for them, the five of them left the shop.

"Are we done yet?" asked Ron.

"Nope, we still need swimwear," said Ginny. "I told you I want to go swimming this week. Maybe tonight, if there's enough moonlight."

After the girl's and boys had separately picked out swimsuits in another shop, it was finally time to head back to the Burrow.

Tonks walked them back to the Burrow. "Molly, I brought them all back, safe and sound!" she called.

Fred and George were in the next room, having just come home a few minutes before. "Did you bring Ron back too?"

"You should have left him down there."

Ginny snorted. "I tried, but he wouldn't go away."

"Maybe we'll think of something later," offered George.

Fred was about to add a smart comment, but Mrs. Weasley came out first. "Tonks, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Sure. Dinner would be great. You don't mind another mouth to feed?"

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "With as many as we have here already?"

"I'll help set the table," Tonks volunteered brightly.

"No, thank you, dear, you've done enough already," Mrs. Weasley said, a little too quickly.

Ginny, feeling a little bad for Tonks. "Why don't you come help Hermione and I put our stuff away?"

"Alright."

The six of them started up the stairs. Tonks, Hermione, and Ginny went into Ginny's room, and Ron, Harry, and Neville continued to up Ron's room. "Just chuck your stuff on the bed or the floor," said Ron, dropping his stuff on his bed.

Neville put his bags neatly at the end of his bed.

Harry dropped his stuff on the floor.

"What do you guys want to do after dinner?" asked Ron.

"I dunno. We've got the whole summer."

"What about you, Neville? You wanna do anything?"

"Not really." He thought about it. "I guess I'll have to go back and get my stuff later though."

"Finally! Something to do."

Ginny popped her head in without knocking, "Dinner in five. Everybody is home, except Bill, but he'll be here in about 10 minutes."

"We'll be down in a minute," said Ron.

She disappeared.

"I heard there's a plan to de-Cannonize this room this summer," Harry said casually after Ginny disappeared.

"What?" asked Ron, outraged.

"It's true. I heard Ginny and Hermione talking. Hermione says the orange gives her a headache every time she comes up here," Harry told him.

"That's it. Neither of them is coming in here. I want somebody to have an eye on them every minute. The Cannons stay." Ron started muttering to himself about what "bloody idiots" girls could be.

The three of them trudged down the stairs and found the table gone.

Ron didn't seem surprised. "C'mon. Outdoor dinner and celebration."

Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, and Tonks were all sitting at the table outside. There were strings of lights out and candles floating round.

"Should we wait until Bill gets here?" asked Hermione.

"He said he should be home by six," said Mr. Weasley.

"It's seven 'til now," said Ginny.

"We'll wait for him then, if no one minds," said Mrs. Weasley.


	7. Dinner

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** Here I am! A couple more chapters, and then we're into uncharted territory. My schedule is hectic right now. I spend 44 hours a week at school, plus add 2 hours a day for driving to and from. And the week after next I'm visiting Pennsylvania to stay at a college for a few days, during which I won't really have time to work on my stories because I'll be auditing classes.

Anyway, I like this chapter. A lot. I might even like it a little better than the last one, but like I said before, as it is now, the story starts slow and builds up. Cue the mystery music.

Thanks for all your reviews, you guys. It means a lot to me. Gah! This is a long author's note, huh?

**Physco Freak Gurl**—Personally, I think that Ron's orange hair would go nicely with a blue shirt, but that may just be me. I know the gray pants (is that what I put him in? can't remember) are lame but I was having trouble thinking of something I hadn't already used in the scene. I couldn't see Ron in baby pink; it'd clash with his hair. I don't see Harry in a TOUGH GUYS WEAR PINK shirt either. I've seen the shirts; it's just not my interpretation of Harry. I think that kind of promotes the stereotype of only girls wearing pink; if I guy is wearing a shirt that says it's acceptable then it makes you think "why wouldn't it be acceptable?" Sorry, I'm rambling.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7: Dinner

* * *

**

A few minutes after six, Bill Apparated and joined them. "Hey, everybody, I'm home." He looked at the table. "You all waited for me?"

"Yes, dear, sit down," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "Now that everyone's here, we can eat."

Serving plates swapped all over the table. Harry saw that Mrs. Weasley had cooked a lot of his favorite foods. Mashed potatoes went back and forward across the table and so did fried chicken, snow peas, and a lot of other foods. Neville was almost surprised the table could hold it all.

Neville couldn't remember a single time outside of Hogwarts where he'd eaten at a table with this many people at it; it wasn't as if he had a huge family. The most there had ever been, even on a holiday or special occasion, had been no more than five of them (Uncle Algie, Aunt Enid, Gramps, Gran, and himself). Neville helped himself and just tried to blend in and listen to the conversations going on around him.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron were discussing Quidditch strategies for the upcoming year. Fred and George were trying to come up with solutions to the problems in some of their newer joke products, occasionally soliciting Hermione for a suggestion. Hermione had gotten Percy to stop discussing work just long enough to ask a few questions about the NEWTs. Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Tonks were discussing political affairs, with occasional interjections by Charlie (who kept getting distracted by his mother). Mrs. Weasley was double tasking by trying to get Charlie to tell her who his mystery girlfriend was and occasionally making comments to Bill about his hair being too long.

Neville ate his fill and began to get drowsy. He settled himself into the chair and felt his eyes closing as the conversations buzzed around him.

"Fudge is an idiot."

"Well, Dumbledore can't take his place, Dumbledore is needed at Hogwarts and with the Order."

"I know but, Percy, should I really continue to take Ancient Runes? It's terribly fascinating but I don't know of any career opportunity that requires that class."

"Well, if you went the same route as Bill, studying Ancient Runes would be a necessity."

"Bill, please cut your hair."

"And so if we split the Chasers into a pair and a single, it would be a double-unit, meaning the group as a whole should be more effective."

"No, Mum."

"Charlie dear, why won't you tell me who she is? A mother has a right to know. I'm sure she's darling."

"But the Chasers need to be unified or they don't stand a chance."

"No, Mum."

"But what about Monkshood? Would that do any good you think?"

"I'm not sure, hey, brain-girl, what are the properties of Monkshood? I only remember the first four, and I think there's supposed to be six of them."

Neville opened his eyes to see that the conversations were all still being carried on with as much fervor as before.

Ginny had dropped out of the conversation with Harry and Ron after they finished talking about Chasers, and looked worriedly at Neville. Did he look sad? Left out? _Well, of course he was going to be sad, idiot, _she told herself. The woman who's raised him for almost his whole life died, and she was probably just about the last of his family. "Hey, you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Fine. Just resting."

"Are you sure?" she asked anxiously.

"Yeah. Just thinking about my plants. Some of them need to be watered tonight. That's all."

"We can go over there and take care of that later. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, Ginny. I'm alright."

Ginny looked at him skeptically.

"Time for cake!" said Mrs. Weasley. She went to inside and brought out a very large chocolate cake. There were frosting Snitches around the upper part of the outside and the words "Happy Birthday!" written in green icing. Squeezed on the lower outside of the cake were green frosting leaves. "Everybody sing to the birthday boys," instructed Mrs. Weasley.

A dozen voices took up the words, "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Harry and Neville! Happy Birthday to you!"

If Neville had thought he was stuffed before, it was nothing to how he felt after eating the huge slab of cake Mrs. Wealsey put on his plate.

During the celebration Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, and Professor McGonagall showed up. Even Dumbledore made a brief appearance toward the end of the night. Fred and George brought out a radio and coaxed the girls into dancing with them on the grass when a lively song came on—they claimed that they needed to work off their chocolate cake calories. But of course, there were only two twins and 3 girls, so they _kindly_ suggested Harry dance with Katie. They "suggested" this bodily lifting Harry up by the armpits and dragging him over to Katie. Then the twins decided that since Neville was a birthday boy too, he just had to dance. They looked around for somebody for him to dance with and pulled out their sister; conveniently leaving ickle-Ronniekins to dance with Hermione. When Hermione and Ron didn't volunteer to dance together, Fred and George hauled them out of their respective seats and pretty much shoved them together. Bill got up and extended his hand to Tonks (who knows? The twins might have tried to pair him with McGonagall!); she smiled and followed him to the improvised dance floor.

Neville kind of just stood where George had thrown him, looking at Ginny standing next to him where Fred had put her. More accurately Fred had sent Ginny spinning off in Neville's general direction and she crashed into him; she hauled herself back to her feet as gracefully as she could and stood next to him.

"What's the matter?" she asked, starting to dance to the music as the volume and tempo increased.

"I don't know how to dance to this kind of music."

"It's easy, look at everybody. Just bounce around and wave your arms. Move with the music."

Neville gave a feeble, self-conscious attempt. "You're a lot better at this than me."

Ginny glowered at him, thinking he was making fun of her. She was just dancing like she always did. "Just pretend that nobody else is here. Nobody watching you."

"I can't…"

"C'mon, _everybody_ takes the radio and dances crazy in their room once in a while, right? Shut your eyes, or look at my nose or something."

Neville shut his eyes, tuning himself into the music, and started to dance a little better. But by then, the song was almost over.

Mr. Weasley pointed his wand at the radio, and offered his arm to his wife. "Care to dance?" he asked, charmingly. A slow tune started, and smoothing her skirt, Molly stood up and followed him.

Remus saw that Minerva was the only woman still around the table and gallantly asked if she would care to dance. It wouldn't be fair for her to be the only woman sitting out the fun.

McGonagall looked at him sharply. No matter how old her former students got, they were always her students to her. But she looked at the fun all around her and got up and tried to look cheerful. Everyone else was having a good time and it wouldn't be fair for her to spoil the party. She followed Remus.

As the slow song came on and Neville became nervous again. He hadn't done this in three years, and hadn't been very good then. He set one hand awkwardly at her waist, then the other, and tried to sway in time to the music.

Ginny set a hand on each of Neville's shoulders. Why wouldn't he relax? It was hard to dance with someone so rigid and formal.

Neville listened to the music. It was a ballad by the Frazzled Phoenixes. Neville was pretty sure that the title was "Sweet Lullabies."

_Your eyes are orbs of light  
__In this terrible darkness  
__Seeing you makes things right  
__Oh how about this:_

_You and me take a little stroll  
__Listen to some rock and roll  
__Fly through night skies  
__And hear the world's sweet lullabies_

_Your hair shines like fire  
__Flying 'gainst the backdrop of the moon  
__Oh take me higher and higher  
__Listen to the phoenix's brand new tune:  
_

_You and me take a little stroll  
__Listen to some rock and roll  
__Fly through night skies  
__And hear the world's sweet lullabies._

As the music played on, Neville relaxed a little. Not much, but enough to relax his hands and move almost an inch and a half closer to Ginny.

Ginny smiled in relief. He finally looked like he was enjoying himself. As the chorus faded out for the last time, she teased, "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"I guess not," he muttered. "I mean, that was fun, er, I…"

"I get the picture," she grinned at him.

Neville danced some more with Ginny before George called for everyone to switch partners. Fred pulled Harry over toward Ginny, and Neville toward Alicia, while he took Katie for himself and passed Angelina on to George. Thanks to a rather to exuberant spin by Ron, Hermione went barreling into Oliver—who had previously not been dancing—and started dancing with him instead. By the time Neville sat down for a breath of air, he'd danced with Ginny, Alicia, Hermione, McGonagall (that was certainly awkward!), and then Ginny some more. He was fine with taking a break. There more guys than girls present anyway.

As the party died down, Neville found himself wishing it wasn't going to end, for more reasons than one. As he went to help take down the decorations and things, Mrs. Weasley reminded him that he still hadn't gone back home yet to fetch his things and offered to take him now if there was anything he had immediate need for.

"Er, Mrs. Weasley? Could I wait until tomorrow to go back to the house for my stuff?"

"Of course, Neville dear."

"Thanks. I promise I'll go after breakfast." He thought distractedly about his plants in desperate need of his care by now.

"Take your time. I can go with you in the morning if you'd like."

"I think I'll be alright."

"Bill and Charlie have taken tomorrow off if you'd rather go with them. I know they're planning on playing Quidditch in the afternoon."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." He wondered if maybe he ought to go while everyone else was distracted playing Quidditch. He looked over and saw Harry and Dumbledore having a quiet conversation.

McGonagall, Kingsley, Remus, and Tonks were saying their goodbyes to everyone and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were saying their own goodbyes to the Weasley twins. Oliver had left half an hour before, saying that he had an early Quidditch practice in the morning. The others were starting to take down the decorations and move things back inside.

As Harry walked away to help with the dishes, Dumbledore beckoned Neville over. Neville was more than a little startled. He'd never really had much in the way of one-on-one chats with the Headmaster. Those talks were mainly reserved for Dumbledore three prize troublemakers, or favorite students, or students most in danger of dying—however you wanted to look at it. So, it was with some nervousness that Neville walked over.

"Why don't you and I go inside and have a cup of tea? You don't mind, do you, Molly?" asked Dumbledore.

"Of course not, Albus, help yourself to anything."

By now, most everything was back inside and Mrs. Weasley ushered all her children—including Harry and Hermione included—upstairs so Neville and Dumbledore could talk alone in the kitchen. For some reason, that made Neville even more worried. Dumbledore pulled out a chair and sat down, and Neville followed suit.

"How are you today, Neville?" Dumbledore asked, relatively cheerful. He conjured a steaming pot of tea. "Milk or honey in yours?"

"Milk, please, sir."

"Two lumps of sugar?"

"Three if you wouldn't mind…"

"Not at all! Exactly the way I drink mine." He poured the tea into a cup for Neville, and one for himself.

Neville sipped it experimentally. It was perfect. Exactly as he liked it. "Thank you. Sir."

"So, how are you? You didn't answer my question."

Neville was tempted to say "fine", but they both knew that would be a lie. He couldn't be _fine_. "As well as can be expected, I suppose." Something just struck him. "How's Uncle Algie? Is he alright?"

"He's doing as well as can be expected. He's trying to handle the funeral arrangements. It should take place this Friday. Fortunately your grandmother left most of her instructions in writing."

Neville shut his eyes against the unbidden image of his Gran lying stiff in a big black box without her hat or handbag. Much to his own surprise, he asked, "Do I have to go?"

"No. But I'd recommend it. Funerals aren't _for_ the dead, you know," he said gently. "They're for the living. So the living can help each other get through life without a loved one. Even if you don't feel the need to go for your own sake, perhaps your great-uncle needs you there. He'll need a rock to support him. Be his rock, Neville."

"Me? Be a rock? I'm sorry, Professor, but you've got the wrong guy. I'm nobody's rock. Nobody's support. I can't even hold myself up. I don't know how I'm getting through this as it is."

"Well, then maybe you need a rock of your own. Find one. You have no close friends, Neville. I'm not so dotty as everyone thinks," the old man said levelly.

"But who? You're right. I don't have any friends. No close friends at any rate. Even my toad is gone now," he said bitterly.

"Anyone, Neville. Anyone at all. Mrs. Weasley is a very comforting person if you'll let her in. Or maybe an older brother figure like Bill or Charlie. I had several brothers myself. Or even just a friend."

Neville said nothing. He didn't know what to say. His Headmaster was sitting here and telling that he needed to find some friends. How was he supposed to respond to that?

"Molly was very adamant in her letter to me about keeping you here this summer. If there's another place you'd rather be, let me know. I'm sure something can be arranged. If not, I think you'll have quite an enjoyable summer here."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, thinking about his plants again. He really should have gone and watered them today. The _fritzwick _bush he got last month as an early birthday present needed trimming everyday or it doubled in size…

"Neville, I know I probably just sound like an old badger, but if you need to talk, let me know when you're ready. I'm a very good listener. Your parents, your grandmother, the Department of Mysteries, your classes, or absolutely _anything at all_. And if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, find _someone_ to talk to. Someone you can confide in. It really will help. Keeping it bottled up inside only starts to destroy you from the inside out. I've been there too many times and seen it only too late."

"Yes, sir," Neville replied, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He'd never had such a long conversation with Dumbledore before. The only two conversations he'd had with the Headmaster that really stuck out in his mind were in first year when he'd asked Dumbledore to please not tell anyone about his parents, and then a brief conversation back at Hogwarts after what happened at the Department of Mysteries last June; he wasn't even alone on that conversation because Luna was there as well.

Dumbledore suddenly looked very tired. "Go on and get some rest. You look almost as exhausted as Harry."

"Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."

"Goodnight, Neville."

Neville trudged up the stairs until a hand shot out of one of the doors and grabbed him, spinning him around as another hand was clamped over his mouth. His eyes widened in fear for a moment until he realized it was only Ginny.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I wanted to make sure I got to talk to you. I didn't want to accidentally wake Hermione." She took her hand off his mouth and pulled the door shut quietly so they stood on the staircase together.

"Okay."

"What did Dumbledore want? I tried to listen, but Mum came and shut the door. I wish I knew where the Extendables were, but I think she found my last stash," Ginny said ruefully.

Neville looked at her, confused. "Extendable _what_?"

"Ears. Don't ask. Anyway, what did he want?"

"He wanted to tell me that…that Gran's…" He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "That Gran's funeral is on Friday. I don't know if I'm going."

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," he said carefully. He thought to himself, _Because if I go, then I have to admit that she's really gone. I can't do that. Not yet._

"Are you going back tomorrow?"

"I have to. Wednesday is almost over now and my plants haven't been watered since Monday. I didn't really get a chance to do anything before I left yesterday…"

"I'm coming with you." It wasn't a question. It wasn't an offer. It was simply a statement of fact.

"What? Where?"

"I'm coming with you to pack your things. You're staying here, aren't you? You can't want to go back to that empty house alone. Even if you think you want to, it can't be a good idea. I'm going with you."

"You don't have to, really…"

"Didn't you just hear me? Wasn't I loud and clear? I'm coming. That isn't the kind of thing that anybody should have to deal with alone. We're not going to let Harry deal with his grief alone either. We've already sorted it out amongst ourselves. Ron, Hermione, and me, that is. Nobody _has_ to be alone. People are alone because they alienate themselves. Sometimes we all need to be alone to blow off some steam; but as a steady diet, it's just no good for anybody. Believe me, I _know_."

Neville just shrugged.

"Don't try and get up early and sneak off without me. I'm a light sleeper and I'll be able to hear you coming down these stairs. They creak."

Neville didn't say anything.

"You don't believe me, but just try and leave without me. It won't work, I promise you." She glared at him a moment, daring him to contradict her. When he didn't, she changed the subject. "Tomorrow we're going to have Hermione intervene with Harry and tell him most of what I just told you. About not bottling up emotions and talking through grief and letting your friends in. You are almost as bad at that sort of thing as he is." She shrugged. "It's like I told you earlier, you two have a lot in common. Most people wouldn't notice it, but…" She sighed, leaving her sentence unfinished. "Goodnight. Get some sleep."

"Alright. You too, Ginny." When he was a few feet away, and she'd turned to go back inside her room, he added, "Ginny?"

"Yeah?" She looked up at him.

"Thanks for bringing me here. I…I think it was a good idea."

She grinned. "We'll see if you're saying the same thing after Quidditch with my brothers tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright." Neville found his way back to Ron's room at the top of the stairs and opened the door.

"Hey, Neville, what'd Dumbledore want?" asked Ron.

"Just asking if I was settling in alright." _Lying again_, Neville thought. _How many times am I going to do that tonight? _"What'd he want with you, Harry?"

"Just to talk about Sirius, and the Department of Mysteries, and stuff." The ending was lame, and all three of them knew it.

Neville saw that his pajamas from the night before were lying on his bed and he got changed while Ron and Harry continued to discuss possible team sets for playing Quidditch the next day.

Neville shut his eyes and lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come.

After about twenty minutes, Ron asked, "Neville?"

Neville didn't answer.

"Good. He's asleep. We can start talking now. I wonder what his real reason for coming is."

"Maybe it's got something to do with Dumbledore. It seemed like they were talking for a pretty long time, mate."

"I know, but I think there's got to be something more to it."

"Do you think Dumbledore sent him here for safekeeping? Like me?"

"Why would he?"

"Even if wasn't already a target, coming with us to the Department of Mysteries last year probably made him one."

"I suppose that's true. Why else would he be a target?" Ron demanded, sensing there was information he hadn't been told.

"I don't want to talk about it yet. Alright?" Harry said quietly, almost too quiet for Neville to hear him.

"Alright, Harry. But it's no good to keep everything bottled up inside."

Harry let out a snort of disgust. "Do all of you read the same handbook? Do you know how many letters I got with those exact same words?"

"Come on, Harry. How often do I ever really read?" Ron asked, jokingly, to get his friend back on civil terms.

"Never, as long as you've got Hermione nearby to tell you everything you want to know," he teased.

"More like everything I don't want to know."

"You've got a point. But why's he here?"

"I don't know, but just sitting here talking isn't going to help anything. Maybe Hermione knows something. We can ask her in the morning."

"Hermione would never know something and just not tell us."

"What about the time-turner?"

"That was different. McGonagall and Dumbledore weren't letting her tell anybody."

"Maybe they're not letting her tell anybody about why Neville is here either."

"It's a little farfetched…"

"Nothing's ever too farfetched. We'll work on this in the morning."

"All right. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Satisfied that they were done talking about him behind his back, Neville fell asleep.


	8. To Gran's

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody! Thought I'd update one more time before I go away for a few days. Everybody seemed pretty much in agreement last chapter that Neville has it pretty bad right now, huh? Gets a little worse, I'm sorry to say. I love him, but I think his life is sad. He may get a happy ending someday if I have anything to say about it, but that day is not today.

Chapter 9, there are two different versions. Seeing as I'm nearly done with chapter ten, I have decided which Chapter 9 I'm using, though I wish I felt a little more secure in my decision. Oh well, on with the story!

* * *

**CHAPTER 8: To Gran's

* * *

**

Neville woke up long before Ron and Harry, again. He quietly changed into the clothes he'd bought the day before and started down the stairs.

True to her word, Ginny heard him pass by.

Neville went down into the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley was already starting breakfast. "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley."

"Good morning, Neville. Dressed already? I see you're planning on making an early start today."

"It seemed like a good idea." He shrugged and hesitated before speaking again. "I still don't think I'm really ready to tell the others yet. Do you mind if I help you with breakfast?"

"Not at all. Here, take an apron so you don't spill anything on your new clothing."

With some reserve, Neville took the pink and yellow apron she handed him. He put the top part around his neck and was just reaching to tie the back when another pair of hands did it for him.

"Oof!" He felt the air go out of him as the apron was tied a little too tight.

"What on earth are you doing up this early?" muttered Ginny behind him, as she loosened and retied the apron.

"Just helping your mum with breakfast."

"Why don't you go back to bed, Ginny? You look tired," offered Mrs. Weasley.

"No, Mum. I'm fine. Neville asked me to go with him today to get his stuff from his house. Right, Neville?" She dug her knuckles into his back.

He tried not to wince. "Right."

By the time Bill and Charlie came down, Ginny and Neville were more than half done eating their first plate of breakfast.

"Morning, boys."

"Morning, Mum," they replied, picking random spots at the end of the table.

"Bill, you'll take Neville to go get his things this morning, right?" It wasn't really a question.

"Of course, Mum," replied Bill, knowing that his mother hadn't _really_ given him a choice in the matter.

"Are you going out today, Charlie?"

"Tonks said yesterday that she might stop here today by and bring me some photos she found of a Peruvian Vipertooth off the coast of Costa Rica. Rather unusual. One of the other Aurors brought them in," Charlie said, not answering his mother's question.

"That's nice."

A little while later, Ron and Harry wandered down the stairs. "Oi, we set the teams for our game today. Me, Harry, George, and Ginny on one team. Bill, Charlie, and Fred on the other."

"That's not fair. My team's a man short," pointed out Bill.

"Tonks can be on our team then," said Charlie. "She loves Quidditch. She's not great, but she's less clumsy when she doesn't have her feet on the ground."

"But what about Hermione and Neville?" asked Ginny. "We can't just leave them out."

Ron made a face at his sister. "Hermione doesn't like Quidditch."

"But what about Neville?" she demanded.

"No, it's alright, really. I'd rather not…" Neville started.

"Come on, it'll be fun. Besides, it _is_ part of the whole summer with you peers experience," Ginny said.

Neville thought, _I can't believe this. I think she's blackmailing me! She's threatening to tell why I'm here if I say I won't play._ _Or at least, I think she is. _"I guess I'll go." _Do I have a choice?_ he thought.

"So then where does that leave our teams?" Ron asked.

"Simple. You, Harry, George, me, and Neville on a team. Bill, Charlie, Tonks, Fred, and Hermione on a team. Five on five."

Hermione came down the stairs, and said in a logical voice, "I can't play. I don't have a broom."

"Neither do I," added Neville. He hoped silently that this would get him out of playing. Good old Hermione wouldn't let him down.

"Then we'll just have to make you two substitute players for when one of us gets tired," declared Ginny with a tone of finality. "When's the game?"

"How about after lunch? I'll take Neville back to his place to get his trunk and then we can all play early this afternoon. Sound all right with everybody?" asked Bill.

"That's fine by me," said Ginny.

"I'm alright with it," said Harry.

"Me too," said Ron.

"I suppose it sounds fine," agreed Hermione.

"Neville?" asked Bill.

"I guess." He tried to smile, but it wouldn't really come. It looked more like he was twitching.

"Sounds fine to me," Charlie said, excusing himself from the table.

"You're already dressed and you don't have work today. Where are you going?" asked Ron, suspiciously.

"I'm going into the village. I won't be long. Dumbledore told me at the last meeting to make sure I keep local newspapers around."

"Oh. Alright." Ron when back to digging into his breakfast with renewed energy.

* * *

An hour later, Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Bill were heading down the stairs to go to Neville's house to pack the things he'd bring. Hermione and Harry were walking down the stairs with them, on their way to go do some Transfiguration homework outside in the fresh air. Hermione was going to try to get Harry to talk about how his post-Department of Mysteries feelings. Ron and Ginny had chosen Hermione as the one to try and talk things out with him since she was the most logical and probably the most understanding. They hoped that Harry would be more open to her about talking about this sort of thing than he'd been so far concerning the matter.

Hermione asked how Neville's grandmother was doing.

"My Gran isn't going to be at the house when we get there. She's…" Neville faltered, "She's out."

"Alright. She scared me a little the last time we met to tell you the truth," Ron said carelessly. He stopped mid-step and Hermione nearly ran into him. "Shoot, I forgot to tell Fred something. I'll be right back." Ron raced up the stairs, muttering something about test products.

Bill just nodded.

Neville had a feeling that Bill knew about his Gran's death. When they were alone at the top of the stairs, he had asked Neville if there was anything he needed to talk about and patted him on the shoulder. Neville had just shrugged and told him everything was fine. When was he going to quit lying? He wasn't fine and he didn't know why he kept saying that he was.

As they walked down the stairs, the five of them heard voices coming from the living room and stopped to listen. It was Tonks and Charlie. Apparently Charlie was back from collecting newspapers earlier than expected.

"Did I tell you? I figured out who that Neville kid is who's staying here. He's—" Tonks started.

Charlie cut in, "Frank and Alice Longbottom's son. I know. Read this."

"The _Daily Prophet_?" her voice sounded disgusted.

He instructed her on what page number and column to turn to.

There was the sound of pages turning. Tonks started to read aloud. " 'July 30th, Augusta Longbottom was pronounced dead. Her grandson, Neville Longbottom, pictured above left, found her early yesterday morning. No one at the Ministry or in his remaining family claim to know where Neville is now, but Albus Dumbledore, when questioned, assured us that Neville is in good hands. Unfortunately at this time we have no way of finding out whether or not he is telling the truth. Augusta Longbottom was the mother of ex-Auror Frank Longbottom (married to ex-Auror Alice Longbottom) Her son and daughter-in-law reside in St. Mungos' permanent residence ward as pictured, above right…' " There was the sound of a newspaper being thrown angrily to the ground. "How could they write something like that? And 'ex-Auror'? That's beyond cruel. Beyond insensitive. Just…ugh! Has he seen it yet?"

"I don't think so."

"Who would write something like this?" Tonks asked even more angrily. "Ex-Auror! St. Mungos! And pictures! I can't believe this!"

Charlie's voice was quiet and those on the staircase had to strain their ears to hear. "Quiet down or he'll hear about it without having to read it for himself. Look at the paper. It was Rita Skeeter."

"Isn't that the same woman who wrote all that horrible stuff a couple of years ago? About Harry being a sappy little boy and Hermione juggling men and that sort of thing?"

"Yeah. That's her," Charlie said vehemently.

"That's it. Where does she live? I won't need my wand, I'm going to go beat the living snot out of her right now," Tonks said vehemently.

Neville had slid his back down the wall and was sitting on the stairs, leaning against the shabby wall. Well, now everyone knew.

"What'd I miss? What's all the shouting down there?" asked Ron, joining them again.

_Okay, so maybe not everyone knows yet_, thought Neville.

Ginny shot Ron a merciless glare. She looked down Neville, wondering if there was anything she could possibly say to make things any better.

Harry tried to give Neville a look that said _I completely understand._

Hermione tried not to look at Neville. She knew if she looked at him, she'd have pity in her eyes. She knew from experience with Harry that Neville would not want her to pity him right now.

The pause seemed like it last an eternity.

Bill said, "Neville, if you guys all want to stay here, I can go get your stuff for you. It's no trouble. Really."

Neville was glad somebody finally said something. "I…I can go."

Ron whispered to Harry, "What's going on?"

"Shut-up, Ron," Harry muttered. "I'll tell you later."

They made their silent way down into the kitchen and Flooed to Neville's house. Neville went first, stepping up to the fire and going through. He landed on his feet, which was more than could be said for Harry, coming behind him. Neville turned around and helped him up.

"Am I the only one who can't stay on my feet when I Floo?" asked Harry.

"No. But I've been doing this since I was about four. I didn't like slide-along Apparation very much and I had to take trips at least a couple of times a year to St. Mungos. Don't worry about it. Let's move so the others can get through. I thought you were staying at Ron's."

"I decided to come. My guess is Hermione will too. I didn't want her to try and talk to me about Sirius." He saw Neville open his mouth to say something. "Don't look so surprised, Neville; I'm not half as dense as they think I am. I knew they'd try to do something to get me to open up to them. This seemed like the perfect opportunity." Harry looked back over his shoulder at the fireplace to make sure no one had come through yet. "Listen, Neville, I know you're not going to want to talk yet; I'm not going to press you for information."

"Thanks," Neville said, truly grateful.

Ginny came through the grate a few seconds later, annoyed that Harry had gotten through before her. Next came Bill, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"I guess I'll lead the way," Neville said.

The room they were in wasn't very large. In fact, they barely all fit into it. The fireplace was against one wall, with a lovely mantle over it. The fireplace was tall enough for a full-grown person to stand up in, with a little mat just outside it to wipe sooty feet on. One wall had a set of double doors, the wall next to that had a single door. The remaining wall had a cabinet, a hat and coat rack, and some other sort of rack. The hat rack had a vulture-topped hat on it.

Harry looked at the second rack curiously.

Neville explained, "That's a broom rack. For visitors who get here by flying. Those double-doors are the front door. It leads outside. This door leads into the rest of the house." He stared at the doorknob as if it might bite him, then he took a deep breath and turned the brass handle.

They entered a parlor. There was an antique grandfather clock that had seen better days in one corner, as well as a sofa and matching armchairs. There was a coffee table and two end tables. Candles rested in brackets on the walls. There was a large, old-fashioned, hand-cranked record player on another table in the corner. Some coasters were neatly stacked on the coffee table with some current magazines. The room had polished wood floor and was decorated in maroon and green. There upholstery had darkish purple-pink flowers on it, and the curtains on the two windows were a pastel green. Painted pictures of landscapes adorned the walls.

There was a carved door that led out of the room. Ginny was glad upon seeing the door because the room felt so dark and oppressive. Not evil, just settled. As if everything was exactly the way it was supposed to be and nothing should be moved or touched. The room had clearly been lived in, but it'd been _gently_ lived in.

Neville opened the door and there was a hallway there, lit with a light that came neither from torches, nor candles, nor electricity. Neville led them silently down the hallway and turned right. There was a door on either side of them. He picked the left. "This is the dining room…"

The furniture was made with a dark mahogany wood, with white upholstery on the chairs. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. The glass glittered and gleamed, but there was clearly dust there. The table seated eight, with three chairs on each side and one on each end.

"This is kind of it in here," Neville said dully. He turned around and led them back into the hallway and through the door he'd passed by. "This is the kitchen." It was a little brighter and cheerier in here. There was a smaller table, a large iron oven, a fireplace, lots of cabinets, and a sink. "That door leads to the backyard. This one leads back out into the hallway. We'll take the third one." Neville felt so numb, seeing all of this again. It seemed like he'd been gone much longer than just a couple of days. He could never remember his home being as lively as life with the Weasleys seemed to be, especially life at home after his grandfather had died, but it had been home. As much a part of him as his arm or his leg. Now, it just felt so hollow. As though his arm was still there, but it just didn't work anymore and he'd never be able to lift a trowel again.

"I'd like to see the backyard," Ginny said quietly.

"Not now." He led them out of the kitchen through the door they hadn't entered from, and they went up a carpeted staircase. The carpet was worn here and there, but the staircase was still as solid as ever. The backyard was his place. His sanctuary. His child. All the things he had ever grown were there, needing him to tend to them. It was his life's blood almost. What kept him going on was in that backyard. It was work that he could do, that he excelled at. That backyard was probably the happiest thing in the house right now, and he'd have to save that for when he was at his all time feeling of low so that he would have something to bring him back up into an almost cheerful world.

"Can you Floo through that fireplace too?" asked Ron.

"No. The network is only connected to the one in the entry hall. That one is only used for cooking. No one cooks in it much anymore though. We used to have a house-elf, she kept Gran company, but Litz—that was her name—died a few months ago. She was almost 100 years old. That's old, even for a house-elf." They'd reached the landing at the top of the stairs and were in another hallway. There was a closet immediately to their right, and a door on their right and their left. "That's the library on the left. It's not very big but there's some good books. Lots of defense stuff, Harry."

Harry just nodded, unsure of what to say and knowing Neville was only trying to fill the silence.

Neville didn't say what the room on the right was. He didn't have to. They knew it must have belonged to his grandmother.

Ahead, the hallway split in two. "On the right, it's just the bathroom." He led them left. "This is my room, and that one next to it is the spare bedroom." He paused outside his door, unsure of what to do. It all seemed so foreign. The Weasleys home wasn't his home, not now, but at least it seemed alive.

Bill cleared his throat. "Is there anything you need, Neville?"

Neville felt his throat close up. "Actually, I could use a glass of water," he said hoarsely. "And I guess we're going to need some boxes." He wasn't sure why he said that. He wasn't packing up his life, just the things he'd need for the rest of the summer, and Hogwarts.

"I'll get the water," volunteered Hermione.

"I'll conjure some boxes," said Bill.

The hallway wasn't very wide. "Bill, you'll have more space in the guest room there."

Bill just nodded and went in the other room.

Neville took a few deep breaths, and opened the door. His room was exactly as he'd left it. There were clothes in piles on the floor. His books were across the desk. His bed was unmade. There was an issue of _Gardener's Seasonly_ lying on the floor next to the bed, face down so as to save a page or an article he hadn't finished reading. Trinkets littered the shelves and the ground. His room was the only one in the house that was never as pristine as Gran would like it to be.

No one knew what to do or what to say.

Neville went and picked up the magazine by his bed. Under the magazine was a ratty old teddy bear that looked as though it must have been as old as Neville. In fact, it _was_ as old as Neville. He'd had it since the day he came home from the maternity ward at St. Mungos. Neither he nor Harry knew that Harry had had one as well, 16 years ago. They were never likely to learn that their mothers had shared a room at the hospital together the day they were born.

"I'll go see what's taking Hermione so long with the water," offered Ron. He did not like awkward situations and figured this would not be the time to ridicule Neville about having a teddy bear. As it was, he wanted to get out before the bear sprouted any extra legs.

Neville sat on the bed, head in one hand and bear in the other. "It's just so weird to be back here, knowing she won't ever be back. Nothing's been moved since I left on Tuesday. I look at this room, and it's the same one I've always known, but it just seems wrong somehow. This room looks as though I only left it an hour ago."

Harry sat on Neville's school trunk, which had been shoved against the opposite wall. "Ginny, go see Bill."

"But—" she started stubbornly.

"_Go_, Gin."

Ginny glared at Harry, looked one last time with concern at Neville, and left. She slammed the door behind her.

After a moment, Harry spoke. "Neville, I'm scared stiff that that's what it's gonna be like when I have to go back to Sirius's house and have to start doing just about the same thing you're here to do today…going back and looking through everything. As long as we don't have to do this kind of stuff, we can convince ourselves that it might not have happened, but—"

"But once we've done something, we can't hide it anymore. We'll have to owe up to facts."

After a pause, Harry spoke again, though the words were hard in coming. "I didn't go to Sirius's memorial service. I didn't even let Dumbledore have one, to tell you the truth. If it happened, or if I went, then—"

"Then it meant it was real. Final."

Harry nodded.

"Gran's funeral," he choked on the words, gave himself a moment, and continued. "Gran's funeral is tomorrow. I'm not going. I don't think I can make myself go. It would just hurt too much. To see her lying there in that box…" Neville felt as though he might throw up. "I remember what it was like at the funeral for Gramps. He wasn't smiling. Gramps always smiled. I don't think I can go through that again, Harry. I can't." The words about his grandfather were muttered; he didn't even completely realize that he'd said them aloud.

"I wouldn't blame you, Neville. I'm not looking forward to going to Sirius's house. But I know I have to. I'm just going to put it off as long as I can."

"I wish I could have put this off. We're alone now, aren't we? We're down to our last ties. I've got my Great-Uncle Algie. You've got—"

"The Dursleys. Worse than being alone. A constant reminder that I'm not wanted." His voice was like acid on the air.

"Uncle Algie loves me, but he doesn't understand me any better than Gran did; this is the uncle who hung me out the window by my ankles to see if I'd bounce when I fell! And he's weak. He's old and growing feebler everyday. He spends his time between the hospital and the guest room here. He's got about half a dozen potions he has to take everyday. Gran was his sister. I can't imagine how he's taking this."

"Probably worse than my aunt took my mum's death," Harry said bitterly. "I'm sure my aunt didn't care; she was just mad that she got stuck with me."

"Alone then."

"Alone."

Ginny, Bill, Ron, and Hermione were outside the door, listening at the cracks and through the keyhole. "We've got to go in there!" Ginny whispered desperately.

"Let them be, Gin," Bill said softly. "They both need this."

Ginny muttered and dropped back to the ground again, listening under the door. "But you're not alone," she whispered. "Neither of you."

Harry asked Neville, "Why didn't you tell us about the real reason you came to stay?"

"Because I didn't want to see that _look_ on everyone's face."

Harry nodded, understanding completely. "The pity look. The I'm-so-sorry-but-there's-nothing-I-can-do look. Can't say I blame you. I hate that look. Pity doesn't help anybody."

"Isn't that ever the truth?" Neville gave a dry laugh. "There's nothing _we_ can do either. As long as bad things keep happening to us, they're going to keep feeling sorry for us. That's part of why I never told anyone about my parents. When Charlie and Tonks were reading that article I saw Hermione try to hide her pity face."

"But it didn't change the fact that it was there. And you both knew it was there."

"Exactly."

There was a pause.

"Listen, Neville, I know we're not just going to become instant best friends over one conversation, but I think talking like this was a good thing."

"Yeah."

He lowered his voice until it was just a whisper. "Let's try it again sometime when we aren't being eavesdropped on by half the Weasley family."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Neville, they've been gone too long." He tiptoed to the door and swung it open. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Bill came crashing down in a pile. "I told you," Harry said, looking back at Neville.

Hermione recovered first. "Let's get to work on the packing, shall we?" she said, after a moment of trying to compose herself. She picked up the spilled glass of water. "I'll go get you some more."


	9. Working

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd love to claim I own them, I can't, so I won't. That'd be lying.

**Author's Note:** Short chapter. Er, very short. But this is the chapter that there are two different versions of. I think (hope) I made the better choice. If you're interested in reading the other version to compare them, email me or say so in your review.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9: Working

* * *

**

Neville pulled his trunk away from the wall and opened it. Inside were a few of his schoolbooks, one of his school robes, and his Hogwarts cloak. The rest of his usual Hogwarts paraphernalia was scattered throughout the room.

"I guess we ought to get started," he said to them.

"I'll start with your clothes if you'd like," offered Hermione, going to his wardrobe. At a nod from Neville she started taking his clothes out and folding them neatly into two piles: clothing that he'd probably bring with him to the Burrow and extra clothing that would probably stay in his room. She'd put the extra clothing away once she'd sorted through it all.

"I'll start putting away your spell books," Ron said, looking around for one of the boxes Bill had made. Neville didn't need to bring all his books with him to the Burrow the way Harry had to every summer.

Ginny started packing up trinkets and things that were on his shelves and floor, while Harry started picking up Neville's magazines and putting them with the books Ron was gathering. She wasn't sure why she was boxing them up, but leaving them scattered as they were didn't seem right.

Neville watched, feeling useless. There didn't seem to be anything he could do in his own room. Why were they picking everything up anyway? This disarray was the normal state his room lived in while he was home.

Bill asked, somewhat awkwardly, "Do you want me to pack up your blankets?"

"What?"

"Mum mentioned to me that you might feel more at home if you had your own bedclothes instead of that ugly green thing she brought up the other night."

"Thanks." Neville sat for another few minutes, still feeling useless. Restless, he stood and went to the window, looking out on the backyard. Not only the air and sun were calling to him, but his plants as well. They needed attention. He kept his attention fixed on the window. "I've got some plants I haven't tended in days and t hey need to be taken care of." Without waiting for anyone to say anything, Neville left out the door and was gone. His friends were shocked; they weren't aware he could move that quickly without tripping.

He went down the stairs at a run and out into the backyard. When he was out in the fresh air he felt a little better. He was away from well-intentioned redheads and the old gray man who kept saying things he didn't want to hear. Away from the dark haired boy who understood his pain too well and the bushy-haired girl who knew everything but his pain. Away from everybody. He looked around for his favorite watering can and found it by the door where he'd left it on Monday.

Neville picked up the watering can and walked over to the pump at the other end of the yard. He decided that he would handle the simpler plants first, and then move on to any that needed extra care. The _fritzwick_ bush looked like it was getting so large that it threatened to choke the three nearest plants.

He pumped water into his can. It was an old one, back from the days when he was much younger and his grandfather first taught him about how wonderful it felt to plant something and see it grow into something strong, healthy, and beautiful. The two of them used to work side by side in the dirt for hours on end. On very rare days, Neville's grandmother would join them. More often than not though she would just sit in the shade and watch her boys enjoying themselves. After Neville's grandfather passed away she was never the same. She almost never even went into the garden after her husband died. Any watering that had to be done when Neville was at school was taken care of by Litz. He looked at the watering can again. It was small, and using this particular watering can meant he'd have to come back and fill it with water twice as often—having gotten it when he was so young—but it had enough sentimental value to be worth the extra trips.

Ginny, ever persistent, followed him outside.

When he didn't notice her, she tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at her, mildly irritated. He had wanted to be alone. "Why don't you go back inside?"

"No reason to go back. They've got a handle on everything in there, and I think you could use help out here," she said, gesturing to the greenery around them.

"I don't need help. I manage all of this just fine."

"Well, then I'll just keep you company," she said, not giving up.

Neville sighed, defeated. "Make yourself useful then. There's another watering can behind that pump over there. You can fill it and bring it over." He pointed with his free hand and continued pouring out the contents of the watering can with the other.

Ginny proceeded to do as he instructed, filling the large silver can and carrying the heavy thing back to where Neville was. She discovered that things weren't quite as simple as Neville had made them look.

There were a few moments of silence between them while Ginny followed Neville. Finally, she ventured to speak.

"You didn't look so great after talking to Dumbledore last night."

"Look, Ginny, I don't want to talk about this right now." Any awkwardness in his voice was gone and he meant every word that came out of his mouth. "About any of it. Not my Gran, or Dumbledore, or anything. I just…don't," he said. He moved on to the next plant and discovered his watering can was empty. He turned to head back to the pump.

Ginny stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and handed him her watering can to use. Meanwhile, she said nothing and went to refill the first watering can.

Neville worked silently for half an hour while Ginny refilled each watering can as it ran out. Neville didn't want to admit it to himself, but as much as he'd come out here to be alone, it was nice that at least she was there. But after a few more minutes the silence started getting on his nerves. Silence was one thing when you were alone, but silence when another person was around was uncomfortable. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't look like she found the silence uncomfortable. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. "Leave me alone, would you? Don't you understand why I didn't show the backyard to anybody? This is _my_ place. Mine alone. Get out of here!"

"No."

"What?"

"I said 'no.' I can handle being quiet, but you aren't sending me away. It's been three days now and you haven't talked to anybody about what happened; I checked. Don't think that conversation you had with Harry today counted: it was barely a start. I'm _not_ going away." She folded her arms across her chest and looked him in the eye defiantly.

"Ginny, I don't want to talk about what happened. What part of that don't you understand?"

"Understanding isn't the problem, I understand it completely; the problem is that I don't agree with you one bit."

Neville found himself in a staring contest with her.

"Neville, you need to talk. It doesn't have to be _me_, but it's got to be somebody. They're all worried about you."

Neville snorted. "Ron thought I was a spy. He said it more than once when he didn't think I was listening."

"You-Kn—" Ginny started. She caught herself and stopped. "_Voldemort_ has taken a lot of things from us, Neville. He took your parents. He took Harry's parents. He tried to take my dad. He took away the ability to trust friends. Do you know the whole story about Harry's parents? About how it was one of their _best friends_ who gave them up to him? Not just that even. He took away our ability to even trust pets. Nothing is safe anymore How much do you know? Do you understand any of what I'm saying? He wins by tearing people apart with suspicion and treachery. Dumbledore said so himself at one of the end-of-term speeches. Ron had a right to be suspicious, but you have a right to prove that you can be trusted. A right to prove that you can handle anything that the Slytherins at school, or even Voldemort himself can throw at you." She let out a long breath, looked him in the eye for a few more seconds, and then finally looked away.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but I just can't talk yet," Neville said, after a long pause.

"Well, I'm sorry you can't talk yet." She left him and went to sit on the step by the backdoor.

Neville glumly finished watering his plants and got hedge clippers out to give the _fritzwick_ bush its much-needed trimming. She was only trying to help and he'd shooed her away. Every so often he glanced back, and every time he did she was still sitting there watching him.


	10. Late Night

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry! I know you don't want to hear excuses, but here it is: I had chapter ten done—10 pages of dialogue and suspense. But I had computer trouble, so I was saving everything to a floppy disc. The disc got scratched and my computer won't read it. I was very despondent. At last I've begun to resurrect the chapter from a two month old memory of it. So far, it's doing pretty well. I cut chapter 10 off early here, so that I'd at least post something to start the new year off with. As you read this I'm working on chapter 11 (which was originally part of chapter 10).

Happy Reading, Happy New Year, and Please forgive me.

Next update is ASAP.

Revised for typos.

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**CHAPTER 10: Late Night

* * *

**

Lunch passed gloomily back at the Weasley house. At least, for Neville it did. He didn't utter so much as a "pass the salt." Ginny didn't fare much better, but the others laughed and enjoyed themselves, trying to shake off the gloom from their morning activities.

As people finished eating talk moved to the afternoon's Quidditch game.

"So who wants to play when lunch is over?" asked Ron, not bothering to stop to chew as he swallowed his food.

"I'm in," said Bill, pushing aside his plate.

"Me too," Charlie said.

Harry grinned. "Me too."

"And Tonks," Charlie added.

"I suppose," Hermione said, frowning over her plate.

"Yeah, go for it, Hermione," Harry encouraged.

"Fred and George as well," Bill reminded him. Fred and George had lunched at Diagon Alley and would be back soon.

Ron looked over at Ginny. "You're awfully quiet. What about you? And, Neville, weren't you going to play?"

Ginny glanced at Neville.

Neville shook his head. "I'm going to go upstairs." He pushed away from the table and picked up his plate, heading toward the sink.

"I'll play," Ginny said.

When Neville had scraped his plate clean, he proceeded up the stairs. He ignored Harry and Ron when they came in to grab their brooms. He just sat on his trunk, staring out the window. He didn't even notice the anxious looks on his friends' faces.

He just sat there; barely aware when the Weasleys all flew into the air, even though he was staring right at the space where they were all flying.

How could Gran have just died? It didn't make sense. He shuddered. He didn't want to think about this, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to the thought of her, lying in that bed.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Weasley came in. "Hello, dear, how are you feeling?" she asked.

Neville shrugged. To answer that he was fine would have been a lie. He knew it, she would have known it, and she would know he knew she knew it.

"I thought I'd come in and make up the bed for you." She shooed him off of his trunk and he stood by the window. His blankets from home were folded on top of one end of the trunk.

He stared, seeing nothing but Gran's face.

Mrs. Weasley worked silently, stripping the Weasley linens and replacing them with Neville's own. She fluffed the pillow, glancing at the dark haired boy. She gathered up the discarded sheets and blanket and started for the door, knowing that Neville wasn't ready to open up to her just yet. When he was ready to talk, she would be waiting with an open ear, a shoulder to cry on, and a cup of hot cocoa in her hand.

As he heard the door creak open, Neville asked, "Mrs. Weasley? Does it ever stop hurting?" His voice was on the borderline between pained and dead.

"Not completely, no." She dropped the bundle of bedclothes as Neville crossed the room.

He hugged her tightly.

"It does get better though. I promise," she whispered into his hair, hugging him back.

He let go and went back to sitting on his trunk, thinking and trying not to think.

Mrs. Weasley picked up her bundle again and left him alone to brood.

* * *

When Neville was quite certain Harry and Ron were soundly asleep, he crept out of bed and into the hallway, hoping against hope that he wouldn't knock anything over. He walked softly, trying not to let the stairs squeak. He stopped in front of the door he wanted and turned the handle gently, not wanting to disturb anyone. 

He could hear light snores come from one of the beds. He approached the second bed to find its occupant already awake and sitting up.

He took a deep breath. "I'm ready to talk."

Ginny put a finger to her lips and jerked her head in Hermione's direction. She slid her legs over the edge of the bed and padded softly towards the door. Neville followed close on her heels and shut the door. Ginny motioned for him to follow her. When they reached the kitchen, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. 'I don't think anyone else woke up." She settled herself at the table.

"Good."

When Neville didn't say anything further, Ginny asked, "What's the real reason you didn't want to talk? I know this is bigger than you're making it out to be. Isn't it?" She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

Neville took a couple deep breaths to steady himself and gather his thoughts. "Gran was _healthy_. She usually only even caught a cold every other year or so. She was in Hogwarts in McGonagall and Moody's year. They're both still alive and healthy. And Dumbledore's gotta be decades older than any of them and he's still alive and kicking. I don't understand. She hasn't been sick. It just…it doesn't make sense." He stared Ginny in the eye a few seconds before dropping his gaze to the floor.

"Are you saying then, maybe she wasn't sick?" Ginny asked, trying to pinpoint just what Neville was getting at.

"I don't know! Maybe." He pulled his hand away. "But I need to know and I'm not sure how."

"We were all over that house. What else could we find?"

"I don't know! But I need to find out."

"Keep your voice down or you'll wake the whole house. If you got me out of bed at two in the morning, I'm sure the last thing you want is a dozen Weasleys down here and breathing down your neck." Ginny glanced at the fireplace. "We weren't everywhere today. We could go, and see what else we could find."

"_Now_ you mean?"

"Yes now." She looked pointedly at the fireplace and then back at Neville. "Are you game?"

Neville looked at the fireplace. "You can't be serious. It's the middle of the night."

"There was only one room we weren't in today. We could go."

"We can't go. There's not even a fire in the grate, and we're underage; we can't light it with our wands."

Ginny knitted her eyebrows in thought and her eyes lit up. "Where is it?" she muttered. "I know they must have hidden it here." She got up from the chair and started opening cupboards.

"Where's what? And who hid it?"

"Fred and George are the who, and the it is a box of matches. You see, when they were younger, they'd make sure they had a box of matches hidden in here so they could light the grate the Muggle way and sneak into Diagon Alley. I'm sure a box must still be here." Ginny crawled under the table and after a brief pause gave a whisper shout of triumph. "A-ha!" She came up with a box of matches.

"Merlin's beard, how did you find those?" The box was tiny and could have been hidden anywhere in the kitchen, yet Ginny managed to find it in the dark.

"I had to think like those conniving brothers of mine. The cupboards would be to obvious, but the underside of the table wouldn't. And even in the Mum looked under the table for gum or something, the last place she'd look would be at her place setting." Ginny grinned smugly. "Fred and George aren't as smart as they think they are."

Neville just sat there, reminded of how like Fred and George the youngest Weasley was; he made a note to himself never to get on her bad side.

Ginny was examining the box. Four matches left. "We've got fire and we've got Floo powder. The choice is yours."

Neville stood up and closed his eyes. "Let's go before I talk myself out of it."

Ginny grinned and struck a match against the side of the box.


	11. Flowers

**Author's Note:** Look, two updates in one day! And, I've surpassed the place I left off at before the disc got erased. Yay! Next update will probably be **Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**. I'm really trying to get back on track here after that fan fiction sabbatical I took.

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**CHAPTER 11: Flowers

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**

Ginny and Neville struck out for the stairs, knowing there was no reason to postpone what they'd come to do. Neville led the way, knowing his way in the dark as easily as he would have in the light. Ginny held the matchbox and a candle from home in her hand.

They stood outside the door to his grandmother's room and Ginny lit the candle. She put a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, offering the candle with her other hand.

Neville tried to smile, took the candle, took a deep breath, and turned the handle. He stepped into the room.

The room was dark. Still, Neville knew it; it was familiar. He walked to the dresser and started lighting the candles there. Gran loves—loved—scented candles. He handed the candlestick back to Ginny when he had enough light to see by.

Everything looked the same as it always had.

The same pictures were on the dresser. Gran and Gramps at their wedding. Neville parents with him as a baby. And a picture of he and his grandfather when he was about six years old, out in the garden. The same pictures for as long as he could remember.

"Neville, this vase is really interesting. Where'd it come from?"

Neville turned to see what she was talking about.

Ginny was over by the bedside table, where a painted vase stood with some somewhat dried, odd looking purple flowers in it.

"And the flowers are really interesting. I've never seen anything like them," she said. "What are they called?"

Something about the flowers struck Neville as odd, but he couldn't place them. "I don't know. And I don't remember that vase."

"You don't remember it? Was it here the day your Gran…?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I was a little preoccupied at the time, if you don't remember," he snapped.

She gazed at him coolly, waiting for the short-tempered moment to pass.

"It looks _wrong_. I don't know how else to say it." He studied the vase. The colors were all bold; red, green, blue, yellow, white, orange. At a glance it looked like splotches of color, but if you really _looked_ at it, you could see…Neville looked away, horrified.

Ginny moved on to examine the picture on the dresser. She caught his expression in the mirror. "What's wrong?"

"That vase…look closely. It's people. And they all look like they're in pain, like they're being tortured. Like they're screaming but we can't hear anything. Gran wouldn't buy a vase like that."

Ginny examined the vase again and put it down quickly. "Maybe she didn't notice. We didn't at first."

"It's not just the vase…I don't know what kind of flowers those are. I remember something about them, but I don't know what."

"Maybe it was in an Herbology book you read," she suggested.

"Maybe." He frowned.

"We could take them home and check." She started to reach for the flowers.

"Wait!"

"What?"

Neville steered her away from the vase. "I don't trust that vase and I don't trust those flowers. You shouldn't touch plants you don't recognize. I'll go down to the kitchen and get something to put them in. And some gloves."

Ginny went back to looking at the pictures on the dresser while she waited for Neville. Everyone in the pictures looked so happy. Even Neville. Standing in the garden with his grandfather he looked happy, and carefree, and not the least bit nervous. Totally opposite from the way she'd known him.

Neville came back with dragon-hide gloves, a glass tube, and a cork. Carefully he transferred the flowers from the vase to the tube and corked it. Ginny volunteered to dump the water out in the bathroom.

He sat on the bed and tried to remember something, anything. Where had he seen the flowers? When had they arrived? Where did that horrific vase come from?

"Neville!"

Neville blinked and raced to the bathroom; Ginny sounded alarmed. "What's the matter?"

"There's writing at the bottom of the vase. I saw it when I dumped the water out." She held the vase and the candle for him to see.

_**B. L.**_

Neville only knew of one person with those initials. He shuddered. It couldn't possibly be her. But if it was…it would all fit. "Put the vase down. I trust it about as much as I'd trust an adder or a cobra. I…I've got a hunch." He went to the library and she pursued him. She was only a few steps behind him, but already when she got there he had an armload of books. When he had about a dozen, he dropped them on the table in the stack and grabbed a dozen more, and another dozen after that.

"What can I do?"

"Grab books. This would be much easier if we'd ever gotten around to organizing this place. I'm trying to find that purple flower." Neville was already turning the pages of his first volume, looking for a picture or description that fit.

Two hours and 104 tomes later they'd had no success. It was four-thirty in the morning. Ginny fell asleep, her hair fanned over _Fantastic Flora of France_.

Two hours after that, around six-thirty in the morning, and reading the 194th unhelpful volume, Neville drifted to sleep.

* * *

Neville woke up with the sun in his eyes and looked around. He was in the Library at Hogwarts. No…he was in his own library, at home. That's strange. Wasn't he staying with the Weasleys? He looked around, a little more clear-headed and saw Ginny asleep in the chair next to him, and he looked at the chaos he'd made out of the library. It looked as though about two hundred books were spread out around and on top of the table, pulled haphazardly from the shelves. 

He looked out the window at the sunlight. It was morning. Everyone would be worried sick if they knew there were missing! Maybe no one knew yet. He started shaking Ginny. "Ginny! Wake up! We fell asleep! We've got to get back!"

Ginny woke up with a start. "WHAT?" She stood up so fast she knocked her chair over. "Oh no, oh no, oh no! Mum's gonna kill us!" She frantically grabbed the box of matches and bolted from the room, Neville right behind her.

They were halfway down the stairs when they heard a voice thundered, "GINERVA MOLLY WEASLEY! NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Coming, Mum," Ginny said meekly.

Neville stood behind Ginny as they came face to face with Mrs. Weasley. Neville gulped; she looked terrifying.

"No note! Gone from bed! Gone Merlin knows where!" she screamed. "I hope you have a good explanation!"

"We—" Neville started.

Ginny stepped on his foot and shook her head. Now was _not _the time for explanations.

"You're coming home now, and you'll be lucky if you see the light of day the rest of the summer!" She grabbed them each by an ear and led them to the fireplace in the entryway, lighting it wordlessly.

One by one they went through and Ginny and Neville settled themselves at the table. Ginny started to offer some advice, "Now—"

Mrs. Weasley appeared. "What have you got to say for yourselves? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I wouldn't have expected this from the two of you. Harry, yes, or your brothers, but not from either of you."

Neville looked at Ginny, seeing if it was all right to talk yet.

She gave a brief nod.

"It's my Gran. I don't think she died. I think she was killed."

There was a stunned silence in the kitchen. During that silence, Ronald Weasley's voice was clearly heard, "Blimey."

"Ssh, Ron, they'll hear."

"Too late, you blockheads," admonished a girl's voice.

Ginny looked irately over her shoulder. "Ron, Harry, Hermione!"

"What have you got to say for yourselves?" Ginny asked, glaring at the line of them.

They didn't say anything.

"Neville, what did you mean, you think your grandmother was killed?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently.

"Mrs. Weasley, the pieces didn't fit. I don't know why she would just…so I had to go back and see if maybe I missed something. Anything. There was this vase. Gran didn't keep vases with flowers and water in her room, because she didn't want to knock anything over in the dark."

"You didn't tell me that," Ginny said.

"I've just only remembered it. And this vase, it looked all wrong." He shuddered. "And there were flowers in it. I don't know what kind they were. I know a lot about plants. Seeing something I don't recognize doesn't happen that often outside of rare textbooks these days. And to see something I don't recognize in a vase that looks like that…" He sighed. "It's suspicious is all. We stayed awake all night trying to find a picture or description of the flower in the library, but we fell asleep before we found anything."

"He's telling the truth, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley collected her wits about her. This was a war and another prime target was living under her roof. She needed to Owl Dumbledore right away. If Neville was right, it was more important than ever that he stay at the house with the other children. "Ginny, Neville, you both look exhausted. Up to bed with both you. The rest of you, shoo. Breakfast will be ready soon, and you're lucky I'm not making you de-gnome the garden for eavesdropping."

Neville tried to protest. "Bed? But I didn't find the right book. I've got to go back and keep looking."

"Neville, you're exhausted. In this state you're likely to pass over information while you're reading. Go upstairs and rest," Mrs. Weasley told him firmly.

Harry and Ron each grabbed one of Neville's arms. "Don't worry, Mum. We'll make sure he gets to sleep. Right, Harry?"

"Right, Ron."

They steered him towards the stairs while Hermione and Ginny followed behind. At the foot of the stairs, just out of sight of the kitchen, Fred and George waited with identical grins. "It was so nice to hear her going after somebody that wasn't us."

"Save it," Ginny said. "Your room, Ron?"

"Sure," he said, elbowing George in the chest as he passed by.

The troop settled itself in Ron's room, spread out across the three beds. "So, start. How did you two sneak out of the house?" George asked, clocking Ron on the head just for good measure.

"Actually we owe you for that," Ginny said, grinning."

"Do tell, do tell," Fred said.

"Do you remember how you used to sneak out to get ice cream from Diagon Alley?" Ginny asked slyly.

"Yeah. The matches and the fireplace."

"How the heck did you find our matchbook?"

"Just had to think like you," she said.

"Oh, so you had to avoid thinking altogether?" asked Ron.

Fred, sitting on the opposite side of Ron from where George was, also clocked him on the top of the head.

"So you found the matches and went to Neville's house. Then what?" asked Harry.

"It's just what you heard," Ginny said. "We went to the room and found the vase and suspicious flowers and went to the library to check it out." She yawned. "Neville woke me up at two in the morning to go over there."

"Sorry about that," Neville said.

"No problem."

"I still don't see what was so suspicious about a vase," Hermione said, from her place next to Harry.

"You heard me down in the kitchen; Gran didn't keep vases of flowers in the room. Any vase in there would be suspicious," Neville said.

"Not to mention the screaming faces on the side of it, and the initials on the bottom," Ginny added.

Neville glared at Ginny, sitting next to him on the bed.

"What?" she asked.

Neville whispered, "Why did you mention the initials?"

"We can trust my family. Neville, what's wrong with you?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange is _my_ battle!" he said, teeth gritted.

Harry sat up. "What does Lestrange have to do with this?" His fists were clenched. Anything he could do to make that monster pay for Sirius's death…

Neville looked around the room. "The initials at the bottom of the vase when we emptied the water out were B. L. I don't know any other B. L. Do you?'

No one said anything.

Neville stared at his knees, trying not to cry. "It's spite. Pure spite. Gran never did anything wrong. I don't know why even. My family never hurt her."

Harry sat uneasily.

"Neville, don't you see? That's the kind of beast she is. She doesn't need a reason to hurt people. She killed her own cousin for crying out loud. She doesn't bat an eye at this sort of thing. From what I know of her family, I think she probably has a very cruel sense of humor. She's the sort who would find the most twisted thing utterly hilarious," Hermione said.

"A monster like that can have family?" Neville asked, hatred bubbling in the pit of his stomach. His Gran being murdered suddenly made him much sicker than her death had. The thought that she had been murdered for someone amusement didn't even garner thinking about.

Hermione looked at Harry to see if he'd say anything. He just looked back, mouth and fists shut.

"Alright then, I'll tell you," Hermione said, fed up with boys who refused to talk. "Bellatrix has a lot of relatives nearly as nasty as she is. They nailed their house-elves heads to the wall, there were Death Eaters, and almost the whole lot was Slytherin. But not everyone in her family was like her. You've even met one of the decent members. The Auror we went to Hogsmeade with was her niece. Bellatrix's cousin was another good person. He was a great person. She killed him in front of his godson."

Harry stared at the floor.

"She needs to be stopped," Neville said, standing up. He was ready to march back to his library and start looking through the books again.

Ginny grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down again.

"Barging in isn't the way to do things," Harry said, somewhat hoarse. "It's how people get killed."

"Besides, we don't even know where she is," pointed out Ron.

"Fat chance Mum'll even let you out of the house, Neville," George pointed out.

"What?" asked Neville.

"Why?" questioned Ron.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Hermione, giving Ron a "why aren't you smarter" look.

Harry groaned. "Because she'll have written to Dumbledore by now and Dumbledore thinks we're all five years old."

"Harry!" chided Hermione.

He sighed. "Well, he doesn't think so. But he's over-protective and—"

"And he's usually right to be over-protective," Ginny cut in.

"But a fat lot of good that's done us!" snorted Ron.

Harry lay down on the bed, knees bent and feet touching the floor. He stared at the ceiling. "Neville, for whatever reason, Bellatrix Lestrange has a vendetta against your family. For whatever reason, she wants to cause you as much pain as possible. I know a little bit about how her mind works. If she killed your grandmother—which she probably did—she may or may not have been acting on orders. Either way, if she got to your grandmother, she could have gotten to you at the same time. But she _didn't_. It means she doesn't want you dead yet. If she doesn't want someone dead, it's because she needs them, has been ordered not to kill them, or isn't done causing them pain yet. I don't know what she would need you for and I can't think of why she would be ordered not to kill you, so we can only assume she's out to cause you pain for the fun of it." Harry's voice was almost toneless and very tired.

Neville gritted his teeth. Fun?

"If she's out to hurt you for fun, there's other people she'd hurt before finally killing you. First, your Gran. Next, I'd guess your uncle. Then your parents. And lastly, you. She'd come in person so she could taunt you, tease you, and make your very last moments as painful as possible." Harry sighed as he ended his explanation. He could see it now. A letter would arrive from Dumbledore soon ordering that all of them stay inside. Great Uncle Algie would be moved somewhere secure and Order members would start keeping watch on Neville's parents.

Neville grabbed the pillow from the end of his bed, lay down, and pull it as tightly over his head as possible, trying to block out anything else Harry might say.

At a look from Ginny, Fred and George left; they'd outstayed their welcome in the room and would be put to better use spying.

Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry each by the hand to tug them out of the room. Harry resisted at first; he had no interest in moving from his place. Ron mumbled something about it being his room. Hermione whispered something sharp to the redhead and said something to Harry about needing some fresh air. Ron led the way out, and Harry followed not knowing if the next proclamation from Dumbledore might restrict him to the immediate house and forbid him fresh air.

Ginny stayed.

She sat on the bed, stroking Neville's back through his green and white striped pajama top. Neither of them had had time to change; she was still wearing her extra large Weird Sisters shirt and shorts. She listened to his muffled sobs and wish she could do something more to help. Eventually, she heard the crying cease and a regular breathing pattern that let her know he was asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So was the Bellatrix thing too predictable? I'm working on a one-shot side piece about the vase. 


	12. Blackpool Pier

**Author's Note: **Weeee! New chapter. Uh-huh! Oh yeah. I had some fun with this.

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CHAPTER 12: Blackpool Pier

* * *

Neville woke up, his eyes sore and a little swollen. He wasn't alone. Ginny was still sitting next to him; she'd fallen asleep sitting up. "Ginny?"

She opened her eyes. "You're awake? Good. I think it's lunchtime. If you don't want to go downstairs, I can bring a plate up."

"Thanks," he said, grateful.

Ginny smiled and got off of the bed, going downstairs.

Neville sighed. He felt like such a big baby. He sat here and cried in front of everyone. Ginny must have chased them all out to save him some embarrassment. He could always depend on Ginny.

He yawned. He figured it must be around noon. Three or four hours of napping could do a person good. He scratched his head. He must look like a mess. He'd been in the same pajamas since what, last night? He wondered if he'd have time to change into jeans before Ginny came back. As he was pondering this, she came in, a plate in each hand.

"I hope you like tuna," she said cheerfully, sitting next to him.

"Sandwiches are fine by me."

They started eating and avoided talking about that morning, or the night before.

"So how was your Quidditch game with your brothers yesterday?"

"Not so bad. Look, Neville, avoiding things won't make them go away."

"I'm not avoiding anything," he lied.

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "You're a horrible liar."

"I know."

Ginny ate a few more bites of her sandwich.

"But it doesn't mean I can't keep avoiding it." He bit into his sandwich and glanced out the window. Not a cloud in the sky.

She bit her lip, trying to come up with a new strategy. "Neville, have you ever hurt yourself when you were gardening?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ever have a cut that got infected?"

"Yeah." He didn't see what she was getting at.

"The infected part, the pus either had to get cleaned or gotten rid of before it could heal, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Er…no."

"What happened isn't going to heal without a scar; it'll always be there. But it will heal, you just have to work through it first."

"I'm not ready to do that yet, Ginny," Neville said.

Ginny sighed. "You've already taken the first step by talking to me last night. It'll get better I promise, but you can't walk backwards in this. Only forwards. You understand?"

He sighed. He didn't answer.

They ate in silence for a few more minutes.

"Did your mum say anything about Dumbledore when you went down there?" Neville asked.

"No," Ginny said glibly. She was lying, but she was good at it. No reason to tell Neville now and make him more defensive. At this stage he had to be handled gently; hammering down on his head like she would normally have done with Harry or her brothers wasn't going to be of any use. Sometimes it didn't even work on them. She could be persuasive when she had to, she just had to be patient about it. She'd seen in the garden that brute force of her personality wouldn't work too well against him; not effectively at least.

"That's strange. I figured she and Dumbledore would have communicated by now."

"The owls are slow."

They sat in companionable silence, eating. "Thanks for kicking everybody out of the room before."

"Don't mention it. I'm going to go shower and put fresh clothes on. I'll see you in a while, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not a baby, even if I guess I act like one sometimes." They both laughed and she left. Neville sighed and got up to get dressed. Why had she gone blurted out about the initials? Clearly she trusted all of them. But then again, they were her brothers, and Hermione and Harry who were practically family to her anyway. He was the outsider here. The only outsider.

He pulled jeans and a green t-shirt out of his trunk and put them on. He tossed the pajamas in the trunk and closed the lid.

He was just about to take the plates to the kitchen when he heard a tapping at the window. The owl must have gotten lost.

It wasn't an owl.

It wasn't any type of bird.

Harry Potter was outside the window.

Neville opened it, and Harry narrowly managed to fly the broom in and land on Ron's bed.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Neville asked.

"I was flying by, saw you were awake and leaving the room and thought you might be up for a chat. I see you finally got dressed."

"I figured I couldn't live in pajamas forever."

"Good choice." Harry stowed the broom under his bed. He clearly wasn't leaving. Resigned to the fact that someone would be trying to talk him into talking about his Gran's death—correction, his Gran's _murder_—he sat down.

"Neville, I'm not going to beat around the bush."

_Wow, that's a new approach_, Neville thought. "Alright. Go ahead." At least Harry was going to be straightforward.

"Your Gran's funeral is in less than an hour. I think you should go. I think you need to be there for yourself, if not for your uncle."

"You're going to be straightforward, then so am I: save it, Harry, I don't want to hear it," he said, bitterly. He couldn't go. He just couldn't.

"Hear me out or I'll call in Fred and George and have them hex you with the full body bind and then see how well you'll have to listen to me." Harry'd long ago learned that if used in the right way at the right time, even hollow threats could accomplish something.

"I'm listening, but I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, just agree to it. Remember when we were talking yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And I said I haven't cleaned out Sirius's house because then I'd be admitting it was real? And you said the same thing about your Gran's funeral?" Harry swallowed. _Get a grip on yourself, you should be able to mention Sirius without getting this upset half the time_. "If you go to your Gran's funeral today at Blackpool Pier, I'll clean out Sirius's personal belongings." He let out a breath. It'd taken a lot for him to say that.

Neville stared at him.

"Look, I'll try to move on if you will."

Neville said nothing.

"He's the cousin that Bellatrix Lestrange killed and I'm the godson she killed him in front of. At the department of mysteries." Harry willed himself not to cry. "I'll try and move forward if you will. We can't go after her if we're too angry and we don't think. We need to be clearheaded if we want to move against her. If anybody deserves to be caught and sent to Azkaban it's her, isn't it? Let her suffer the rest of her natural life and I hope it's a long one." There was venom in Harry's words, but he wasn't overcome by rage.

"You'll try, if I will?"

Harry gave a single nod.

"I'm not dressed for a funeral," Neville said, looking at his green shirt and blue jeans.

"I think you are," Ginny said, standing in the doorway, dressed in green.

"Didn't hear you coming up the stairs," said Harry.

"Neville, green is the color of life. I think it's entirely appropriate at a funeral, particularly since gardening and growing things has been your greatest love," Ginny said, sitting on the bed between Harry and Neville.

"How about it? Are you going?" asked Harry.

Neville bit his lip. "I'll go if both of you come with me. I don't want Ron, or the twins, or even Hermione. Just the two of you."

Ginny smiled. "I think we can do that."

* * *

An hour later, Neville found himself sitting between Harry and Ginny at the Blackpool Pier. They'd come with Tonks, via slide-along apparation. Tonks was seated behind him. Around them there were a few people he recognized and several he didn't. Madam Bones was present; he could remember his Gran inviting her for tea on multiple occasions. Mad-Eye Moody, and McGonagall were present; in fact McGonagall was in the front and would be giving the eulogy. Dumbledore was present and seated next McGonagall, a large scarlet and gold bird on his knee. Uncle Algie was there, seated at the front of the proceedings. Neville couldn't place names to any other faces. His parents weren't there. Even though he'd inititally wanted them to be, Harry's words about Bellatrix's next probably actions had made him reconsider.

His Gran had chosen a very traditional funeral. Her body was wrapped in a black cloth, with only her face showing. Neville alternated between trying his utmost not to look at that face, and looking at it, trying to make sure he would never forget her.

When everyone was settled in, McGonagall stood at the end of the pier to speak to everyone. Spells had been set up around the perimeter of the area to keep Muggles from coming anywhere near the proceedings.

"I've known Augusta Longbottom since we were girls. I've known her since I was eleven years old. We met on the train to Hogwarts." She sniffled. "Oddly enough, we didn't get along at first. It wasn't until a week after term started that we finally became friends during a detention after arguing in Professor Dumbledore transfiguration class. I do recall plotting with Augusta to turn Albus's hair purple for tarnishing our records with detentions so early in our Hogwarts careers.

"We congratulated each other when we got our first jobs; she started working at St. Mungos and I was clerking at the Ministry of Magic. We were bridesmaids' at each others' wedding. I can even remember when I set her and Marc Longbottom up on the first date. We never had a falling out per say, but we grew apart for a time. As the years went on, we grew closer again when her son Frank became a student of mine at Hogwarts. Now, through her grandson's time at Hogwarts over the passed six years, we've exchanged numerous letters." McGonagall sniffled again. "I miss her, as I'm sure all of you do. She wasn't the easiest person to get along with, but looking at the group assembled here today—including myself—I know most of you and I know at times none of us are exactly easy to get along with." There was a brief chuckle that sounded as though it came from Albus Dumbledore himself in the front row. McGonagall gave him the briefest of glares, but a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth.

"Augusta _lived_. She didn't take life sitting down and waiting for it. Those of you who knew her later in life may not believe this; she was strict. She had a strict code of rules she followed, and manners that she expected everyone should follow. Still, let life pass her by and I encourage all of you here, whether you're 15 or a 150, to follow her example. Life is to be lived or it serves no purpose. We honor here the memory of Augusta Longbottom."

McGonagall went back to her seat and a minor applause followed her.

Dumbledore stood. "For those of you who have not been to a life-passing celebration of this kind before, do not be alarmed." The scarlet and gold bird was now perched on his shoulder and he whispered something to it.

The bird flew to the cloth wrapped body, bursting into flames. The bird ignited at once, burning completely to ashes as the still flaming bird ascended the sky. When the phoenix came down again, he was normal and rested on the arm of Dumbledore. Dumbledore had his wand out and whispered something. The ashes rose in the air and scattered out onto water.

It was over.

Dumbledore had mentioned that the funeral would be short, and apparently this was the traditional style. These days some witches and wizards did buried (phoenixes were few and far between) as Neville's grandfather had been buried, but space was running out on the planet and some preferred to go out in a blaze of fire and glory.

There were refreshments, but few of the dozen or so guests stayed for them. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Tonks, Moody, Harry, Ginny, Neville, and one man Neville did not know stayed. Neville considered leaving. He didn't want to stay. Uncle Algie had left, why couldn't he?

McGonagall hugged him. "No matter how harsh she seemed with you, know that your grandmother spoke very highly of you, Neville."

"Th-thank you, Professor." Neville was surprised. His Gran always seemed disappointed in him; disappointed that he wasn't more like his father. Blowing her nose again, she Disapperated.

Moody said nothing to him, but clapped Neville on the back and nodded at Harry. He didn't leave, but he wandered off.

"See, you're managing just fine," Ginny said, squeezing Neville's hand.

"You'd better hold up your end of the bargain, Harry," Neville said, fighting to keep his voice steady. Watching her burn like that was difficult; the saving grace of it was that it had been quick.

"Don't worry, Neville, I will."

Tonks floated on the outskirts of their perception. She wasn't so much a part of this as she was the children's protector, should anything untoward happen at the funeral. She started talking to Moody about work.

The man Neville didn't know was old, but spry. He said nothing to anyone and left when no one seemed to be looking.

Moody clapped Neville on the shoulder as he passed by, but that was all.

Suddenly Neville found that Harry and Ginny were no longer at his sides and Dumbledore was approaching him. What had happened?

"Neville, I—" He stopped suddenly. His demeanor changed from slightly somber to jovial. "I'm glad to see you took my advice." He looked over at Ginny and Harry, who had both been snagged by Tonks.

"You were right."

Dumbledore smiled. "Walk with me." He started forward and Neville matched him step for step. "Did you enjoy the ceremony?"

"I don't think _enjoy_ is the right word." Enjoying anything didn't sound right; his Gran was dead and had just been disintegrated by a bird.

"No. I suppose not."

"It was interesting though."

"Good. Neville, death is but the next great adventure. We you have lived for as long as I have you sometimes long for it. You long to see what's waiting around the next corner." Neville started into interrupt, but Dumbledore stopped him. "We are sent here for a purpose; to do what we may in our time allotted. Some of us still have work left to do here before we may move on. My work isn't finished yet. I'm afraid I may still have many years of it left. Your grandmother has raised a magnificent son, healed many people at St. Mungo's, and…brought you up. You are an adult, Neville."

"I still have two years of Hogwarts left, sir."

"Yes, Neville, and you'll be guided through as the others will be. But you have born a lot in the past sixteen years that many don't have to deal with. You've displayed great courage and have very much become your own person."

"But I'm not—" Brave? Never.

"Don't be so sure, Neville. Though it may feel as though you are always overshadowed by classmates and family, that is not the case. You're remarkable in your own right. Never forget that."

Neville didn't know what to say. Harry was the brave one. Hermione the smart one. His father was the one who could do anything; the one who made Gran proud. But when he looked at Dumbledore's eyes, he knew that the old man believed every word he was saying. "Thank you, sir."

"I speak only what I believe."

"I know, sir."

Dumbledore nodded and started to walk away.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Neville?"

"I had something I wanted to address."

Dumbledore came back to him. "By all means, Neville, go ahead."

He looked around at the bright sun and the grass, and the water. His throat tightened. "Not yet. But could I, could I maybe send an owl?"

"Whenever you wish."


	13. Duty

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note: **I know it's been awhile. I'm sorry. The end of the chapter was giving me trouble. I've been busy like mad. Our high school musical: CANDIDE opens in 2 weeks so in the mean time I shall remain swamped with work.

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Chapter 13: Duty

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Neville finished recounting his conversation with Dumbledore to Ginny as they sat in her room. He was sitting on Hermione's bed with his head against the wall. Ginny sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest.

"So why didn't you tell him?"

"I wanted to have more proof, I think. I'm not really sure. It didn't seem like the timing was right for it."

Ginny nodded; she understood. "So what's your plan?"

"My plan?"

"Neville, you've got almost half a summer left. What are you going to do with it?"

"Homework, take care of my plants, see what I can do about Lestrange." He shrugged.

"And you're staying here?"

Neville blushed. "As long as it's alright with everyone, I'd rather not go back home. Not to stay anyway."

"That's just fine with us," she said. "But not just homework and that garbage, alright? You've got to play Quidditch with us to make up for missing the game. And we can all go down to the village. It'll be fun."

Neville tried not to look too happy. Except for Quidditch—and possibly ingesting anything from Fred and George's room—summer with the Weasleys might be fun. "Harry better live up to his end of the bargain. I went to the funeral today." And, as much as one corner of his mind hated to admit it to the next, he felt a little better for it.

"He will, don't worry about that," Ginny assured him. "It won't be easy, but he'll go and do what he said. He knows he needs to."

"I just wish I had a way of getting at Lestrange."

The door opened and Hermione walked in. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still in here talking; it's late.I'll come back later."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. We were just about finished," Neville said, getting off her bed.

"I'll see you in the morning, Neville?" Ginny asked.

"As if I could stop you?" he said, a little humor in his voice. "I'll be going with you and Harry."

The three of them said their goodnights and Neville left.

Upstairs in Ron's room, Harry was putting his pajamas on, and Ron was reading a book on the Chudley Cannons (well, reading, looking at the moving pictures: same thing).

"Going to bed already, Harry?" asked Neville.

"Yeah. I'm getting an early start in the morning. If you're coming…"

"I am."

"I'd advise the same then."

Without preamble, Neville changed his clothes and lay down. His mind was thankfully clear of thoughts of the funeral or of Lestrange. He went to sleep feeling almost peaceful. Maybe this summer might be good for him yet.

Neville woke up; Harry and Ron were already getting dressed. Harry put a finger to his lips to signal him to be quiet. They didn't want to wake Mrs. Weasley. As quietly as he could and hoping not to knock anything over, Neville changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Harry picked up a piece of parchment with a few lines already written on it. He led the other two down stairs.

The door to Ginny's room was slightly ajar. Harry pressed on it; the room was empty. Ginny's pajamas lay in a pile on the floor. Hermione's pajamas were folded neatly by her pillow. Ron pointed down, indicating that the girls must be waiting in the kitchen. They continued on their path.

Ginny and Hermione were both in the kitchen. Orange juice was waiting in five glasses, along with a plate of muffins. A quick bite and they could leave. Harry put the note on the table. As Neville ate, he read the note.

_Mrs. Weasley, don't worry about us. We haven't disappeared. We're just at Grimmauld Place. Don't worry, we aren't alone. Remus will be joining us. We're just doing a little clearing up._

_  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville_

"Now we can't get accused of leaving without a word," Ron said, looking at Neville and Ginny.

She rolled her eyes. "We'd expected to be back before everyone woke up. And even with this note she's still going to be furious and come after us."

It was just a short trip by Floo powder to Grimmauld Place. And what a place it was. Drab, dark, and more than a little scary.

Ginny saw the look on Neville's face and squeezed his hand.; "It used to be worse."

_Worse than this?_ he thought.

Wordlessly they followed Harry op the stairs and Harry stepped in front of one of the doors. He couldn't quite make himself touch the handle.

"Do it like a band-aid," Hermione advised.

That in mind, Harry put his hand on the handle and threw the door open, but he didn't move forward.

A layer of dust coated everything. Clearly no one had been in there since…since Sirius.

The bed was unmade, red blankets were twisted every which way. The desk was covered in papers. As a matter of fact the floor had quite a lot of papers too. There were only two pictures on the desk and a magazine. The first picture was cut out from the _Prophet_; it was the Weasley family, in Egypt. Wormtail was circled in red ink several times and looked as though he had been stabbed. The other picture was of Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Sirius must have gotten it from Remus. The magazine was the Stubby/Sirius issue of the _Quibbler_. Quite a few _Daily Prophet_ crossword puzzles littered the floor and a few were scattered on the desk—the crosswords were nearly all complete. Several ink bottles, half-chewed quills, and pieces of crumpled parchment completed the scene.

"I guess it's time to start," Harry said. His voice shook slightly. He wandered, a little dazedly over to the desk and sat in the stiff wooden chair. The last person to sit here had been his godfather. He started looking through the papers.

Hermione pulled Ron with her to help start making up the bed.

"Why should we make it?" he muttered. "He didn't care about making it." He couldn't quite bring himself to say "Sirius" in this room in front of Harry.

She silenced him with a look.

"It's so…" Neville started. He couldn't finish it. The room was a mess, no doubt about that. The papers were everywhere, the bed was unmade, but for all that mess, it was uncluttered. There were very few personal items around. He thought back to all the things he kept in his room: a few old photographs, magazines, a stuffed animal or two, and little trinkets that meant things to him over the years. He was a little bit of a packrat, but this place was just…stark. A desk. A chair. A bed. A wardrobe. A nightstand with nothing but an oil lamp on it. "How long did he live here?" he whispered to Ginny.

"He lived one of the rooms, maybe this one, when he was young. But recently? Around a year," she replied, just as quiet.

A year! This room didn't look as though someone had spent a year living in it. It just…didn't. When someone is in a room, they make marks on it. They put posters or photos or _something_ on the walls. These walls were white. A plain whitewash over a depressingly dark wood that still showed through in places. No shelves had been hung, nothing was on the walls at all except for a single bracket to put a lit torch or lantern or something in. The window was pitifully small. It felt very jail like. And claustrophobic, even though the room wasn't particularly small. It wasn't large by any means, but it wasn't small either. Two people could comfortably share this room possibly. Neville bent to pick up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor. It wasn't anywhere near the wastebasket even. Ginny went to open the wardrobe. Neville smoothed out the parchment on instinct.

_Dear Harry,_

I'm writing to tell you that 

The line was crossed out.

_I just want to you to know that I_

This line was also crossed out.

As a matter of fact, the page ended with a frustrated scribble. Though the two crossed out lines were legible, the only thing on the page not crossed out was the words "Dear Harry."

He picked up another piece of paper and found it similar.

_Happy Birthday, Harry!_ _I'll see you soon._

The last three words had been crossed out and the paper crumpled soon there after.

As Neville picked up papers he saw that Sirius had made at least a dozen or more attempts to write to Harry and then either couldn't decide what to say or had been prevented from sending them. The letters spanned the course of several months.

Some of the letters were accompanied with splotches that looked suspiciously like tear drops. Finally, coming across one that wasn't crumpled and seemed to haven fallen off of the desk, Neville found one that was little more complete.

_Harry,_

_I wish I could be at Hogwarts with you now, or keep you here. But that's selfish isn't it? Bad enough for one of us to be caged up like a pigeon, right? I tried contacting you on the you-know-whats more than once. They only work if you carry it with you. If you keep it locked in your trunk you'll never hear when someone tries to contact you._

_I hope you're all right. Moony is off on business somewhere. I'd leave this place but Snape is coming by more often than usual. Dumbledore's orders I'm sure. I only wish I could do something, anything._

_I just want you to know that I think about you. These days I've only got Buckbeak for company and occasionally Snape. I've tried to write before, but something always stopped me. I'll find a way to get this letter to you. I promise._

_How is Quidditch? And your classes? Tell me everything. And send crosswords._

_I miss y_

The letter ended there. It was dated the same day they went to the Department of Mysteries. Neville bit his lip and put it on the bottom of the pile in his hand. He looked over at Harry. Harry was sitting at the desk, looking over something. Neville glanced at Ginny. Ginny was still in the wardrobe.

There were only a few articles of clothing hanging in it: a set of robes, three pairs of pants, and five shirts. A drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe held socks, and boxers. That was all there was.

Neville wondered suddenly. What happens to a person's clothes when they die? What was going to happen to Gran's clothes? It was quite possibly the stupidest thing he could have thought of, given that they were standing in a dead man's room and Harry was clearly, but he couldn't help it. He supposed possessions went as they were doled out in the will. But it seemed to him as if everything in the will was left to Harry. Harry would have no use or desire for the clothes in the wardrobe, but he probably wouldn't feel right throwing them away. And giving them to somebody else? That seemed quite possible, but not if the person knew Sirius well and not if Harry had to see that person often. It would be painful for both parties, wouldn't it?

Ginny folded the clothes and put them on the bed. Hermione, being Hermione, refolded them.

Ron looked at Neville and shrugged. What was there for them to do? They started picking up the newspapers.

Suddenly there was a laugh. It wasn't loud, or prolonged, but it cut through the still air.

The sound came from Harry. There were a few tear streaks on his face, but except for who wrote it, he found the paper in his hands highly humorous. His friends gathered around him.

FIFTY WAYS TO ANNOY SNIVELLUS SNAPE

BY

PADFOOT

1. Tell him his hair needs washing.

2. Smile incessantly.

3. Sing something happy.

4. Ask him if he needs date for Saturday and say that you know several available members of the reptile family who might go out with him.

5. Sing a Christmas song—in July.

6. Call him Snivellus.

7. Ask him where his vulture hat and red handbag are.

8. Tell him he looks dashing in green dresses.

The list went on, up to fifty, and near most of the ways to annoy Snape, the dates which he annoyed Snape by that manner were scribbled in. Forty-seven of the fifty ways had dates next to them and all of these dates were between March and May.

Sirius had clearly been both bored, and in the mood to annoy Snape.

Harry picked up another page. Sirius's artistic skills were sorely lacking, but the unflattering comic clearly got the point across: Sirius did not like Snape. The comic strip showed Sirius cursing, beating up, and humiliated above mentioned potions master.

Similar pages of Snape-abuse (both in writing and drawings) were found in the top desk draw. Not that this was a strictly Snape show. There were also pages on Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort, his cousin Bellatrix, Vernon Dursley, Lucius Malfoy, and even a page or two on Dumbledore.

In the second drawer there was a journal. Topics in the journal ranged from outrage at being caged like a bird, frustration at the world and Dumbledore and himself, and a few pages of guilt. Every once in a while a funny anecdote remembered from Sirius's Hogwarts days appeared on a page. But Harry didn't show them much from the journal. He had only just found it and pocketed it.

The third drawer of the desk was nothing but legal documents, ink, quills, and spare parchment.

Neville handed the letters over to Harry. Harry looked through them with an unreadable face. Was he angry that Sirius hadn't sent them? Was he glad to have them and know that his godfather had worried about him? Neville couldn't tell.

Harry gave a start when he got to the last one. It was almost like Sirius was reaching out from beyond the grave…or veil. Like he was having one last conversation with him.

He looked around the room. "Is this all that left of him? Clothes and paper." He kept the papers near him.

Ron noticed something. There was a little drawer—very thin, almost hidden—in the nightstand by the bed. "Hermione, did you open that?"

"No."

He crossed the room and did so, kneeling beside the bed. Inside was a set of keys and more letters. These letters were tied together and had envelopes with them. And they were all from Harry.

Harry saw what was in Ron's hands and went to him. "He kept all the letters," he said, somewhat disbelieving as he took the stack. Sure enough, the pile went back to just after his third year.

"What are those keys for?" Ginny asked.

Ron looked at them and shrugged.

Harry got a light in his eyes and both corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. "His motorcycle."

A voice from the doorway spoke quietly, "It's in the cupboard, under the stairs."

"Remus?" Harry asked. They had written to him, but were sure he wouldn't come. He'd known Sirius even longer than Harry had.

"HARRY! RONALD! HERMIONE! GINERVA! AND NEVILLE!" came the scream.

Neville got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other. "It's Mum!"

They'd hoped they would have more time before she arrived.

Remus quirked an eyebrow and said calmly, looking over his shoulder, "They're all up here, Molly. We've been looking a few things over."

Neville looked at Ginny. "Didn't he just arrive?"

"Not if Mum asks," she said, teeth gritted.

He got the message.

Remus stepped in and sat on the bed, next to the pile of clothes and refolded one of the shirts. It didn't _need_ refolding of course, but he redid it in exactly the same manner as Hermione had.

Mrs. Weasley came up the stairs and into the room. "Sneaking out again!"

"Molly, I assure you, they've been in excellent care," Remus said with a winning smile. "Harry wanted to do his duty by Sirius and not leave things to fall into a state of decay. He wrote to me because he thought it might be easier to go through the things of the house with someone who knew where it all came from and knew Sirius."

Mrs. Weasley was a little flustered. "Well, I suppose that's true, but I could have used some notice. Someone needed to make sure they were all right and that that dreadful house-elf hadn't been back and letting people in."

"Kreacher is dead. The wretched thing died earlier this summer at the Malfoys." Remus didn't explain how he knew this. "Dumbledore has been able to prevent unfriendly forces from entering the house whilst no one has been here. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Ginny are all safe while here. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Don't forget, we did leave a note," Ron added defensively.

Mrs. Weasley still looked uneasy.

"Why don't you make lunch in the kitchen downstairs while we finish up this mess?" Remus said in a soothing voice. "I'll see that no one gets into any trouble while here and that they get home safely."

Eventually Molly acquiesced and went downstairs.

"Thanks, Remus," Harry said quietly, once he was certain that the Weasley matron was out of earshot.

"So, what brought you here today?"

"It was time. I…I can't keep pretending it didn't happen. It did. And…Sirius wouldn't have wanted me upset; not too much anyway."

Remus nodded.

Harry looked at the letters. "Why didn't he send them?"

He looked at Harry. "He didn't know what to say, and even if he did, Dumbledore wouldn't allow owls to or from the house directly."

Harry made a face. It always came back to whatever Dumbledore said. "I want to see the bike."

Remus hesitated.

Harry looked at him.

"After lunch."

In the mean time, the Harry remained alone in Sirius's room while Mrs. Weasley called up to the others that, so long as they were there, they ought to tidy up other rooms of the house. After a quiet lunch, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny went home with Mrs. Weasley. Remus promised to return Harry later on in the day.

Hermione was reading and Ginny was watching Ron and Neville got at it in a round of Wizard's Chess when Harry got home.

It was around four in the afternoon.

Harry entered Ron's room without knocking and stood in the doorway. "Hey, I call the next game."

Neville looked closely at Harry while he seated himself. His eyes were red, as though he'd done some crying, but he seemed happy. He looked more closely. Harry _was_ happy.

"Alright, Harry, prepare to lose," Ron chortled. "Neville, checkmate!"

Neville slid out from his place by the window and moved to sit by Ginny. Ron ordered his chessmen back into formation.

She smiled at him.


	14. Water

**Author's Note:** I know it has been a very long time. Finals, graduating high school, freshman orientation. Life has gotten in the way. But I'm free now 'til August, though I will travel for a couple of weeks in July. Enjoy! And if you forgive me, review, por favor.

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**Chapter 14: Water

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**

The next day Neville wrote a letter to Dumbledore. And he crumpled it up. He wrote a second one, which suffered the same fate as the first. He really didn't want to say anything to Dumbledore about his suspicions until he knew exactly what he was talking about. After all, this was a serious crime he was accusing someone of, no matter what else she was guilty of in the past. No to mention, there was always the slight—very, very, very slight—chance that he might just possibly be wrong.

A week passed. By August eleventh, Neville still had never sent the letter to Dumbledore. He had spent the week at the Weasleys', either playing games, or doing the occasional homework assignment, or just becoming comfortable talking to his new friends. No matter how many years he had known Ron, Hermione, and Harry already, they still more or less felt like new friends to him this summer.

He had so far managed to avoid Quidditch quite happily—though he knew sooner or later Ginny would make him get on a broomstick. Mrs. Weasley had steered them away from the village—she was convinced that it was a bad idea. Harry was the only one permitted to really leave the house without Mrs. Weasley (and of course he still had an escort when he did so). Remus picked him up a couple of times during the week to go over to Sirius's house. Neville and the others had spent hours on several days combing through the information in the library at his Gran's house—with Mrs. Weasley present to ensure their safety, lest any Death Eaters decide to use the time to their benefit. He felt like he had to visit his plants as often as he could, even though he took the ones that required the most maintenance back to the Burrow with him.

It was Sunday, a week from the day when Neville had first tried to write his letter to Dumbledore he was awake early and headed outside before breakfast.

Neville was in the backyard, pruning and watering his plants, when a shadow appeared in front of him across the leaves he was cutting. He looked up and was somewhat surprised to find Hermione standing there in front of him.

"Oh. Hi," he said awkwardly, still kneeling over his plant.

"Hello," she replied.

There was silence.

Hermione honestly wanted to do something to help Neville, however she could. "I had an idea. I was thinking that if we don't find the answers to that plant in your library, there are other places we could look. I've been through the Weasleys' books and couldn't find anything, but I was thinking that there are other libraries we could search through."

"Other libraries? Whose? And where?"

"There's the Patils for one. They're purebloods and likely to have an old family library dating back for generations. Somewhere like that may have just the book you need. Or there's always Percy. I'm sure he keeps a good stash of reference books in his room."

Neville considered. Neither was a bad idea.

Then, sliding onward smoothly, Hermione offered, "Or there's always the Hogwarts Library."

"You mean, wait until September?" He didn't like the idea of putting everything on pause.

"No, no, I'm sure Dumbledore could find it if you ask him. He may even have something in his personal collection."

Neville's eyes connected with Hermione's and he stood up, facing her. "_No_." His voice was clear and firm. He clearly did not want to be argued with.

Her eyes broke away from his. "You mean you _still_ haven't written to him yet?" She glared, hands on her hips.

"No, and I might not ask him at all. If I don't write to Dumbledore, it's my choice not to write to him, okay? He more or less ignored me for most of five years. The only ones he ever talked to were you three. I've gotten along fairly well so far, and I'll be fine without him." He bent down and picked up his watering can. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've still got some work to do before everybody else wakes up for breakfast."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Everybody? Don't you mean _Ginny_?"

Neville said nothing and kept on with his work.

"Neville, it's obvious." She moved to block his path again. "The smiles, the quiet discussions. I'm sure the only one who hasn't noticed is Ron. _He_ never notices anything past his own nose." There was the slightest taste of bitterness on her tongue with the last sentence; she couldn't help it.

His eyes widened and he looked around hurriedly. "Don't say a word to Ron. Please?" If Ron knew that Neville was starting to think that he might just possibly have slightly more than friendly feelings for Ginny, he was as good as dead. But he wasn't sure yet. And of course he had no clue how Ginny felt. He had never really had close friends before and for all he knew, Ginny might just be considering him another brother, like Harry or Ron.

Hermione looked pleased. "Of course not. Now, will you _please_ write to Dumbledore? You still haven't even told him your suspicions and you'd planned to do that over a week ago."

"If I don't find anything in another week, I'll write," he agreed finally. "You'll help me check through other libraries, won't you?"

"Of course, I will, Neville. We can start sending letters out today."

After that, Hermione kindly changed topics, her mission accomplished for the moment. She moved on to topics that were friendlier than Dumbledore, Bellatrix, or Ginny. She asked about how he first began gardening and what career he was thinking about pursuing when he left school in two years. By the time they finished watering the plants and talking to one another, the sun was high and they were sweating. Ron, Harry, and Ginny greeted them from the table as they went inside.

"Where've ya been?" Ron asked, courteously _between_ mouthfuls of egg.

"Gardening," replied Hermione, sliding into place between Ron and Harry. "It's boiling out there. Unusually hot."

"The pond where we swim sometimes isn't far," Ginny pointed out.

"Mum isn't going to be happy to let us leave the house or even the yard. You saw how anxious she was when we went down to the village with Tonks, and that was before…" Ron trailed off.

Neville finished the sentence silently: _…before we knew about the _murder_, before there were _more_ reasons to worry. _Neville didn't have much of an appetite anymore and pushed his plate aside.

Hermione surreptitiously reached across the table, squeezed his hand, and gave an encouraging smile. He tried to smile back.

"Just because she was nervous last time, doesn't mean she'll be nervous now," Ginny said.

"Mum's _always_ nervous about _everything_," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"The pond is closer to the house than the village is and no one's going to be around. I say we do it."

Harry wrinkled his nose. He still couldn't really swim and wasn't too keen on the idea. "Let's take a vote."

"Well, what are we deciding between?" asked Charlie, coming down the stairs.

"Between staying at the house, or going swimming," Hermione said.

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Hey, Charlie, do you have the day off?"

Charlie looked at her as he sat down. "That depends on what is you want me to do, little sister."

"Come swimming with us and be the responsible adult, for Mum's sake."

"Don't feel like it. I've got plans."

Ginny got a rather mischievous look on her face. "Charlie…" she said in a singsong voice. "I _know_."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know what?"

"I know who you're seeing."

His eyes narrowed. "You do not."

"Yes, I do."

"You're lying."

Ginny leaned on her elbows across the table. "Are you willing to bet that I don't know? How sure of yourself are you? Because I could just call the name out right now."

They locked eyes.

Then, he said coolly. "Get Mum's approval and I'll take you. _But_ not because you're threatening me, and not because you _think_ you know anything. Just because I don't have anything better to do until later." Snatching a piece of toast off of one plate and taking Harry's already buttered knife out of his hand, he left.

They waited until they figured Charlie was out of earshot. "Good going, Gin!" Ron said, grinning at his sister.

"We still didn't decide to do this," Hermione reminded him.

"Ginny, who is it?" asked Harry.

Ginny bit her lip.

"Well, who?" Ron added eagerly.

Hermione and Ginny shared a look. "Don't you see?"

The boys didn't answer.

"She doesn't know. She just had to lie to Charlie long enough for him to think she knew," Hermione explained. Boys could be so dense sometimes.

"Yup," confirmed Ginny. "Not that I don't have my suspicions, like the rest of you."

"So let's take a vote already," Ron said, disappointed that his sister didn't know anything, but impressed that she was able to fleece one of her older brother's like that.

Ron and Ginny were all for swimming. Harry and Hermione sided against it. The deciding vote was left to Neville.

Ron and Ginny went off to find their mum and do their best to gain permission for them to leave with Charlie. Neville and Hermione went to write letter to the Patil sisters and a Ravenclaw Hermione knew from her Arithmacy class in third year. Neville managed to old off against writing to Dumbledore yet. They decided they'd speak to Percy when he got home from work; he wasn't the sort to look kindly on anyone pawing through his things without permission, even for research purposes.

Less than an hour after they'd finished eating Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Neville, and Charlie were tramping off to the pond. The boys wore t-shirts with their trunks, and the girls wore their clothes over their bathing suits. About a quarter mile's walk from the house, they found the swimming pond. It was of a decent size.

"How deep is it?" asked Harry.

"One end is shallower than the other. Towards that way it's about three feet deep. This end is more like seven, at the deepest point," Ron answered. When they were still twenty feet away he took off his shirt and let it and the towel fall on the ground as they kept walking. Now, about ten feet from the water's edge, he took a running start and jumped in, screaming as he did so.

Ginny called to him, "How's the water?" as his head bobbed the surface. She took off her shirt and pulled off her pants, hanging them on a low branch.

He sputtered water like a fountain. "The weather's nicer in here than out there!"

With a grin, Ginny ran in after her brother.

Charlie slipped into the water about a moment later, childhood memories flooding back to him.

Harry, Neville, and Hermione were left standing alone. "Should we go in?" asked Harry.

"I suppose we should, after walking all this way."

Neville nodded. He hadn't had much experience swimming himself, and he preferred not to think about the time his uncle threw him off of Blackpool Pier.

Harry and Hermione went to stand under opposite trees to strip down to their swimwear. Neville turned away from the water and took off his shirt and folded his towel up. With a deep breath, he turned back around and jumped in. Once in the water, he started to panic and flail his legs and arms around. It was deeper than the he had thought.

Charlie noticed his struggles and swam over in a couple of strokes. "I've got ya, Neville, you're not gonna drown." He gripped Neville around the waist, holding his head above water, and swam over to the shallower part of the pond where Neville could stand. Hermione and Harry were already there, having decided they didn't want to just jump right in.

Charlie went over a few of the basics with them until he was reasonably sure they could manage on their own, and then they started a game.

"Morgan!" shouted Ron, eyes shut.

"Le Fey!" they answered.

"Morgan!"

"Le Fey!"

Eyes shut, Ron swam in the direction of Harry's voice. "Morgan!"

"Le Fey!"

Harry escaped and Ron crashed head first into the muddy bank. He spit a rock out of his mouth. "Yuck. Morgan!" Barely even trying, he ran into Hermione. "You're it." He swam away.

"Morgan!"

"Le Fey!"

"Morgan!"

"Le Fey!"

Neville mostly tried to remain where he could keep his feet on the ground most of the time. When Harry tagged him some time into the game, he was sure his turn would never be over. He didn't seem to be able to catch anyone. He suspected that when he finally ran into Ginny, she purposefully set herself in his way.

All the same, they had a great time. It after a couple of hours of swimming and playing, they got out and ate sandwiches from a picnic basket Mrs. Weasley had sent them with, and sat on their towels, drying in the sun.

Ron, eating his sandwich, dripped jam all over his pale, freckled chest.

"That's disgusting," Hermione commented, taking a napkin for her fingers.

Harry grabbed a second napkin and handed it to Ron. "She's right, you know."

Ron made a face at his friend and started wiping off his chest. "She usually is."

"You need water to get that off, or it'll still be sticky," Hermione added.

Ron glared at her. "Gee, give ya one compliment and you think you know everything. I'm fine now."

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny exchanged a look that said clearly, "There's just no living with him."

"Neville, if you could get a free pass on any class you had to take at Hogwarts, which would you pick?" asked Ron, randomly. He was looking for something, anything, to get the awkward attention off of him.

"That's easy. Flying," Neville told him. He had finished eating and lay back in the grass, his hands, behind his head, face in the middle of the circle.

The other sixth years were stunned. The voice hadn't even sounded like Neville's. Even Hermione, who shared no great love of flying, would have thought he'd pick Potions.

"Care to explain that one?"

"Even if I don't like it, and am not good at it, at least a little bit of understanding of potions in necessary in day-to-day life. Sure, I'd rather not have Snape breathing down my neck and making me drop anything, but I _really_ didn't need those flying lessons in First Year. Haven't been on a broom since and won't be for as long as I can help it."

The answer made sense.

Similarly, Harry's choice when asked the same question surprised people. "History of Magic."

Hermione stared at him. "What about Divination?"

"Or Potions?" shuddered Ron.

"If I hadn't been in the class, I wouldn't have heard that Prophecy in third year. And like Neville said, we _need_ potions. I didn't need History of Magic."

The question changed and they asked Charlie what his favorite class had been. "Care of Magical Creatures, I suppose, since it's so connected to my career. But I'm in debt to Transfiguration too. Aside from everything practical about it, McGonagall gave me the detention that led me to meet Hagrid, and that's when I really started getting interested in the subject, as a second year student." His face turned wistful. "He always had something new and unusual around whenever I would stop by. I was there the year he got Fang."

Hermione and Ginny went over and sat by the water's edge, dangling their feet in. Ron whispered, "Watch this." And got up suddenly and did a cannon ball into the water, sufficiently splashing both girls. When he resurfaced, he was far to close to them for comfort—they each grabbed one of his ears and pulled until he apologized. Charlie, Neville, and Harry sat back and laughed.

When the sun was finally starting to sink, they started back towards home.

Sitting under a tree, not far from the water was a figure in a pink hat and green boots. A bit of dirty blonde hair stuck out from under the hat. She was reclined against the tree, perfectly at ease.

It was Luna Lovegood and she was singing softly.

Ginny parted company from the others to ask if Luna wanted to go back to the Burrow with them.

"No thank you. I'm listening to the trees. Fascinating. They say whilyhovs were up in the branches just last week."

So they left Luna, singing to the tree.

* * *

Harry and Neville found themselves being steered away from the others by Ron. Soon there was about 20 feet between them, and the girls and Charlie. Walking between Harry and Neville, he asked quietly, "Has Hermione always looked like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like that," Ron repeated. "The way she looked today."

"Mate, she's looked the same way more or less for years now," Harry told him, puzzled.

Neville looked at Ron's expression and snorted. "Ron, she's a girl, and she's looked like a girl for three or four years now. Are you trying to say you just noticed that?"

Ron said nothing more and Harry and Neville did all they could to keep from laughing at him. Hermione did not care about makeup, or clothing, or wearing her hair perfectly. And though she didn't tend to wear clothing that proclaimed the fact—even today in her swimsuit she declined from showing too much skin—she was indeed a woman.

Internally, Ron was scratching his head. How did your best friend grow up, without you realizing it? And furthermore, how come she looked all grown up, and you still felt like you were twelve years old?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Was it alright? I'm trying to get back into the groove of things again. I wanted to put some time more or less between the funeral and now, because I realized I had so far spent 13 chapters on 5 days, and at that rate, I was never going to make it to September 1st, which is when I think the story should end—everything should be tied up by then. So just to let everybody know Neville and Co. are currently living Sunday, August 11, 1996. 


	15. The Secret

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** Yay! New chapter! I know I updated this fairly recently, but I knew what I wanted the next chapter to be (well, at least the first half of it) so I was able to write it quickly. If you're waiting for another story: I'm working on it. Next update should be my Young Wizards fic, **_A Rescue of Sorts. _**I'm about halfway through the next chapter on that.

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Secret

* * *

**

After putting dry clothes on, the students entertained themselves for a while in Ron's room. Of course Ron made a total prat of himself when he did a victory dance around the room after he beat Hermione in three consecutive games of chess. Even Harry was starting to lose his patience with him by then.

Dinner was uneventful. Arthur, Molly, Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville sat around a quiet table. Fred and George were having a dinner meeting with someone and Bill had owled to say he wasn't coming home for dinner. Charlie came, ate quickly, and left within five minutes.

Poor Ron seemed to hurt every time he moved; he was so sunburned, you could hardly see the freckles through the burn. Percy told Hermione and Neville that he would gladly let them look through his reference books if they needed, provided they did so after dinner and with _clean_ and dry hands. Ginny was eager to have a big Quidditch match on Monday, but Ron asked her to hold off for a couple of days until his sunburn wasn't quite so painful. As neither Hermione nor Neville was eager to fly, the idea of putting off the game received full support from them.

"Just because we're putting the game off, doesn't mean we're not taking you flying," argued Harry.

"That's right," Ginny added with a firm nod.

Well, they'd cross or burn that bridge when they came to it.

* * *

After dinner, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Neville decided to walk outside. They promised Mrs. Weasley they wouldn't leave the backyard.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Harry said irately, "That is getting _very_ old."

"I know! Does she think we're babies or something?" Ron asked.

"Ssh," Ginny cautioned.

"Why? I'm not afraid Mum'll hear me." All the same, he lowered his voice.

"Not Mum. I hear voices," Ginny whispered.

"What voices?" asked Ron.

"I don't hear anything," added Harry.

"I do," Hermione said. They crept along the nearest hedge.

"I still don't—"

Hermione clapped a hand over Ron's mouth.

Neville suddenly found himself aware that there was someone—well at least two someones or one crazy someone—on the other side of greenery, and his wand was several flights of stairs out of reach.

They paused and listened, trying not to even breathe heavily.

"I missed you."

There was a brief silence, followed by a sigh.

"Why weren't we in more classes together at Hogwarts?" That voice was familiar.

"Because Care of Magical creatures wasn't one of your required classes to get into the Auror program and I had no desire to take advanced potions."

Ron looked at the others, wide-eyed, and mouthed silently. "That's Charlie!"

Ginny nodded confirmation.

"I wish it had been. Why don't you just tell your family about us?" They couldn't quite place the other voice.

"You know my family. We'd never hear the end of it from my brothers and sister for one. And my mum would never leave you alone."

"I don't mind."

"Who is the other one?" whispered Harry.

"I don't know," replied Ron, as quietly as he could manage. He wasn't quiet enough.

"Wait, Char, do you hear something? Voices?"

"Hm? No. Must just be Moody's paranoia catching on."

"I suppose."

A suspicious silence followed and one by one they stuck their heads up over the hedge. Charlie had a dark haired girl in a lip-lock and she showed no signs of wanting to get away; on the contrary, her arms were wound just as tightly around him as his arms were around her. If she hadn't somehow managed to twist her ankle on a rock while standing there, they might not have been sure about who it was.

Charlie caught her as she fell, but he also caught sight of Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville staring at him. "You were right. We've got company."

She gained her footing again and turned around.

Ron said, "I think you're the only person I know who can fall down just standing still."

Tonks frowned at him, and her face morphed slightly, and her hair completely, to look more like the Tonks they were familiar with.

"So now you know. And now you know that we're going to have think of something horrible to do to all of you if you breathe a word of this to anybody."

"Who's left to tell?"

"Just Percy, Mum, and Dad, right?"

Tonks looked at Charlie. "Fred and George know?"

"They got a hold of one of your letters."

"And Bill?"

"He helped them keep the letter away from me." Now Charlie had his arms crossed and wasn't looking too friendly towards the younger members of his family.

Neville suddenly remembered that Charlie worked with big, fire-breathing reptiles. He did not look happy at the moment and Neville found himself nervous.

"Look," Hermione, reasonable, said. "In half an hour, come back to the house. _Both_ of you. Mrs. Weasley really wants to meet the girl that is making her darling Char-Char so happy. Just get over it, Charlie. You _can't_ win against your mother. Come back and have dessert with the family and you'll make her very happy."

Charlie looked at Tonks, and then consented. What choice did he have? Someone might accidentally let it slip if he didn't speak to his mother. "We'll be inside later, sneaks."

The younger Weasleys and three adopted Weasleys walked a little while longer (since that is what they told their mother they were doing) and went back inside. They stayed in the living room, talking for a while, and waited for Charlie to come back.

Eventually, Charlie came through the door with Tonks. "Mum! I'm home!"

Mrs. Weasley came downstairs, followed by Mr. Weasley. "Yes, Charlie?" She stopped, startled when she saw Tonks. "Hello, Tonks."

Charlie looped Nymphadora's arm through his. "Mum, I've been seeing Tonks for about two months now. She's my girlfriend."

Tonks grinned. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley looked from one to the other. "You? And Tonks?"

Charlie nodded. "That's right."

"I'm so happy for you!" Mrs. Weasley seemed thrilled that her Charlie had found a nice girl and finally introduced her to her. She threw her arms around Tonks The family made smalltalk with Tonks over cherry pie, but after she left, the grilling began.

"Well, how serious are you?" Mrs. Weasley prompted.

"How do you judge seriocity?" He wondered if that was even a word. Probably not. Oh well.

"Have you met her parents yet? Eaten diner with them? Bought her any kind of jewelry? Discussed the future?"

Charlie rubbed his temples. He knew this was a bad idea. "I've met her dad, but not her mum yet. Haven't had dinner with them. No I haven't bought her any jewelry; she doesn't _like_ jewelry. And the future…" He shrugged. "_The_ future or _our_ future?"

Mrs. Weasley crossed her arms. "There may or may not be a difference between the two." Which was exactly what she wanted to find out.

"We've discussed _the_ future, how the war is going and all that. But not _our_ futures in particular."

_Hmm_…thought Mrs. Weasley. _Our futures was plural. _"Do you know what she wants in life?"

"At this point? To live," Charlie answered, completely sincere.

Mrs. Weasley thought, _Fair enough. That's what we all want at this point. Just to keep surviving and hanging on to the ones we love._ She glanced through the doorway at the living room where the younger members of the household were together, and she looked back at Charlie. Her voice and eyes softened a little. "And what do you want in life, Charles?"

Charlie started to worry. His mother looked tired, drained. And she hadn't called him_ Charles_ in years. It had never really suited him. He said that the name Charles was for some man in dress robes and a sturdy hat; not for some kid scraping his knee playing Quidditch or off chasing dragons. Charlie was the name that suited him—the name he picked when he didn't want to be Charles for his whole life. He took a large swallow of air, and then another. "I want to live, Mum. And I can't do that if I'm afraid of the war and afraid to keep living my life. I'll do what I can for Dumbledore, and for all of us, but in the meantime, I'm going to keep _living_. I'll keep seeing Tonks and going to work and I'll stay here for a while. And then, maybe in five years, maybe more, maybe less, I'll get married. Maybe it will be Tonks, maybe it won't. And then I'll have kids. Right now, my plan is just to live."

Mrs. Weasley smiled, proud of the man her son had grown up to be. Her energy recovered itself. "Isn't there anything else you could call her other than Tonks? It's so…non-feminine. I know she doesn't like the name Nymphadora, but maybe there's a shorter form of her name? Or what about her middle name?"

"Her middle name is Mildrina. She hates it. Sirius used to call her Dora, when she was young, but now she can't stand to have anyone call her it."

Mrs. Weasley stood, "Well, I'm sure you'll think of something. I'm going to go up and see to Percy. I don't think he's been feeling well." The Weasley matron swept out of the kitchen and Harry and the others glanced at her from their various places spread out around the living room.

* * *

That night, when they all went to bed, Neville thought to himself that it had been a good day for the most part. He'd learned how to swim. He had even gone swimming with the Weasleys and Harry and Hermione. He spent a normal day with friends. And he really was starting to feel like they were becoming friends and not just people who lived in the same building for five years.

And he had avoided flying for yet another day.

* * *

It was just after lunch and Hermione had gotten permission to go through Percy's books. He was at work now, but Neville was by her side, sorting and looking for anything that might contain information on that mysterious plant.

Hermione had been right on one count; Percy did have an impressive collection. Unfortunately for Neville Herbology had not been one of Percy's favorite subjects; he didn't like to get his hands dirty and had no particular desire to study potions. Guides to Success, information about the Ministry of Magic, a history books, a little bit about Transfiguration, several books on Charms, and even a couple of novels. There were only two books that had anything to do with Herbology and a third book that had to do with potions. One of the Herbology books Neville owned as well and had already been through several times. The other he took to look more closely at later. He almost put the potions book back, but took that as well, just in case.

She looked at what they'd gotten. Three hours after they had started, they had two books to consider. Just two. But they did manage to put all the other books back into their correct places on Percy's shelves and—as per Percy's instructions—they left slips of parchment with the book titles and authors where the books they had came from.

Not that it made much difference. They'd probably be done with the books before Percy got home anyway.

Since Ron and Harry were playing Exploding Snap in Ron's room and Ginny was off doing something with her mother, Hermione and Neville decided to look through the two books up in Ginny's room. Her window let in plenty of natural light. The two of them sat on Ginny's bed (being the closer one to the window) and started skimming. Hermione took the potion's book, Neville the Herbology. It would help if they at least knew what the flower was called. It could have been in any one of the list of potions ingredients and they wouldn't have known it unless there was a picture or detailed description of it.

Neville fared no better with the Herbology book than Hermione did with the potions book. Still, they slogged through both tomes; Ginny brought dinner plates up to them when they didn't come down to the kitchen.

Later they had nothing to show for their hard work but sore eyes, empty dinner plates, and three paper cuts between the two of them.

Hermione squeezed Neville's shoulder. "Don't worry. We haven't heard back from the Patils' yet, and Anthony Goldstein's owl got to me this morning. He said if we'd like we can rummage through his library the day after tomorrow."

Neville nodded. He was tired. He ought to look through his library again, but they'd already searched the entire place once and hadn't found anything. He yawned and leaned against the wall.

* * *

Neville woke to the sound of gentle snoring and a crick in his neck. He looked around. He fell asleep leaning against the window in Ginny's room. He looked outside; the stars were out and the sky was dark. It was probably fairly late. He squinted in the dim light. On the other bed in the room was Hermione. Well, he was pretty sure the hair was brown and not red. It was hard to tell because everything was so shadowy. He debated whether or not to get up and wished there was a clock he could see. Well, if he was asleep and Hermione was asleep (and not where he'd last seen her) it stood to reason everyone else was asleep too, so there was no point in finding Ginny and giving her bed back. She was obviously already asleep somewhere else. He quietly kicked his shoes off and curled up back asleep in a more comfortable position for the remainder of the night. 


	16. The Search Continues

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** Alright, not my favorite chapter, but this was like a house cleaning chapter. Stuff at the end of the chapter that need to get taken care of. Not my favorite, but it's here. That counts for something, right? Oh, and the chapter title is lousy and more or less irrelavent.

* * *

**Chapter 16: The Search Continues

* * *

**

When Neville woke up again the sun was starting to slant in through the window and he'd once again forgotten where he was and was surprised for a moment at his surroundings. When he remembered, he saw Hermione, still asleep, and made sure he was quiet when he picked up his shoes and walked towards the door. He didn't bother putting his shoes on; no point in waking Hermione up. Now that the light was better he could see that it was Hermione. Her hair was in a tangle across the pillow, one arm out at an odd angle, and her mouth slightly open (which explained the snoring).

He walked past her and eased the door open, and he shut it quietly. He had made it across the entire room intending to be quiet and had actually managed it. He grinned. Maybe clumsiness could be outgrown after all.

Neville stood on the stairs. Hmm…should he go upstairs and change his clothes or just go straight to watering his plants? He might as well change first. He'd been in these clothes since yesterday. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone who wasn't already up, he crept up the stairs to Ron's room. He opened the door and walked in. He was less afraid of waking Harry and Ron up than of waking Hermione; Ron and Harry were both fairly heavy sleepers. He went over to his trunk and opened the lid. He found a fresh pair of boxers and clean jeans and changed into them. He took off his t-shirt and was trying to decide on another one to wear when he noticed something was moving in his bed. Holding a clean shirt scrunched up in one hand, he looked up more fully. There was Ginny Weasley and she was just opening her eyes.

"Neville?" she asked, yawning.

He stood there, more or less rooted to the spot.

"What are doing there?"

He sputtered, "M-m-me? What am I doing here? What are doing here? I'm getting dressed." Suddenly aware that he was standing in front of her, half-naked, he covered his chest with his shirt, not quite remembering that she'd seen him shirtless two days ago when they all went swimming together.

"I'm here because you fell asleep in my room yesterday and I didn't want to sleep on the couch. I figured it didn't really matter—who cares if I slept in here? Ron's my brother and Harry's practically the same."

Neville pressed his lips together. _Practically_ the same isn't _quite_ the same.

"Besides, it's sleeping. It's not a big deal. I wear these same clothes around the house."

Neville glared at her. "What _is_ a big deal is that I've been standing here getting dressed for five minutes and you were awake and didn't say anything."

Ginny sat up on her knees and glared back. "I did too say something as soon as I saw you. And you were dressed the same way you are right now. Those jeans and no shirt. And by the way, you've been talking to me for five minutes now and didn't bother to put the shirt on anyway." She hmphed loudly and stalked towards the door in her oversized t-shirt and shorts. When she reached out and touched the handle, she looked back at him, "I'm going back to sleep now." And she left, slamming the door behind her.

More embarrassed than angry, Neville put his shirt on. He should have just taken the clothes with him and gotten in the shower to begin with. Why had he bothered to come up and change at all? And at least Ginny knew he was in her bed; she wasn't going to walk in on him changing down there or anything—he, on the other hand, was totally unaware of where she was. He did figure she was telling the truth about when she woke up. She had no reason to lie. He had just always been rather shy. Sure she and Hermione and both seen him without his shirt when they went swimming and he supposed it wasn't _really _a big deal, but he was mostly underwater then. This wasn't the same. He couldn't help being nervous. Plenty of girls showed interest in Harry at some time or other and everyone (except maybe Ron) knew Hermione was crazy about Ron. But as for himself? He was just plain, ordinary, clumsy, stupid Neville Longbottom. And after a while, a person could get very sick of being that.

He was never particularly proud of his body and girls in general made him nervous. He looked at his arms. They got a little bit of sunshine when he wore t-shirts, but they were mostly pale. He didn't have a great Quidditch body or anything. He wasn't as flabby as he was in his first couple of years of Hogwarts, carrying buckets of dirt and water did go a long way towards muscle toning, but never really considered himself very attractive.

The slamming door woke Ron and Harry both up.

"Huh?"

"Wha's happ'ning?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "Nothing. Ginny just left is all. I'm going outside."

Harry yawned, scratched his arm, and rolled over on his side.

Ron stifled a yawn (mostly), and said, "Yeah, she came up here with us last night. Perce said he wants his books back." With that, Ron fell flat against his pillow—or where his pillow should have been if it hadn't ended up on the floor around three a.m.—and went back to sleep as well.

Shaking his head, Neville put socks on and, still carrying his shoes in his hand, went downstairs. He sat in the living room and put his shoes on before going out to give his plants their morning attention.

He was a quarter of the way through with his work when Ginny asked, "I saw you down here through the window and thought you could use some help."

"Thanks. I didn't even notice you come down here." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He didn't _need_ the help, just as he didn't need the help when Hermione came to him the other morning—but the company was always appreciated.

"Well, I couldn't get back to sleep."

"Sorry I blew up at you before. I guess I'm a little self-conscious." He picked up his shears and started trimming the out of control _fritzwick _bush. The darn thing grew quite rapidly, it's goal to choke the other plants around it.

"I know."

He looked at her quizzically. What did she know? That he was sorry?

"I know you've got a shy personality. I was the same way. Barely talked to anyone outside my own family. But I've spent the last few years working on being a little more confident and outgoing. If I start to feel nervous, I try and think back to the mindset I was in during my First Year and I _know _don't want to go back there."

Neville didn't exactly see the connection between the two topics, but he appreciated that she was sharing a part of herself with him.

"I want to go with you and Hermione, to look at the next set of books that might have the answer."

"We're supposed to go to Anthony Goldstein's house tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Good."

Neville looked at her. "Why is tomorrow good?" He hadn't liked her tone of voice; it didn't sound as though things bode well for him.

"Because that leaves today for flying," she smiled cheekily at him.

That was almost the last thing Neville wanted to do. "Count me out."

"Nope. You've avoided it long enough. There's nothing more pressing that needs to be done today, so why not? You can't go to Anthony's house until tomorrow, and even so you still need permission to go."

Neville said nothing further. He would not agree to flying. He really wasn't in the mood for a broken neck. Instead, he let her talk on about the subject as they went in for breakfast—saying no further word for or against it.

* * *

Some how, despite every protest he'd made, Neville found himself straddling a broom less than two hours later.

"Now, it isn't really hard, Neville. Lift your right foot, and kick off," Ron explained, as though addressing a five year old.

Neville screwed his eyes shut. He did not want to do this. He did not want to do this. He did _not_ want to do this at all.

Ginny had been trying to encourage him for ten minutes now. He refused to leave the ground.

Hermione had an idea and beckoned Ginny over to her. If they couldn't get Neville in the air, they might try to get her flying and she didn't want that anymore than Neville seemed to. But she had a way that might just get Neville flying. She started whispering in Ginny's ear.

Ginny nodded. It sounded possible. "Harry, give me your _Firebolt _for a minute."

Harry looked startled and stuck his hand holding the broom out. They'd been trying to get Neville onto Ron's broom, reasoning that the power behind Harry's might startle him if he managed to get off the ground. Maybe Ginny planned on riding the _Firebolt _herself, to show Neville how easy it was.

She took the broom and walked back over to Neville. She spoke quietly, so that only he could hear her. She straddled the _Firebolt_. "Alright, Neville. I want you to put down Ron's broom and sit behind me on this one." Neville looked at her, uncertain. "Just do it. I promise not to take off until you're ready."

Neville was apprehensive, but set down Ron's broom and stood behind her.

"Look, wrap your arms around my waist, and I'm going to kick off from the ground. But I need you to kick off at the same time as I do. The broom is more than up to it. This is a _Firebolt_, the best broom on the market. It can handle anything." Her voice was soothing, and soon Neville slipped his arms around her, despite his misgivings. "Alright, now, when I count to five, kick. Okay?"

Neville looked around. He didn't want to do this. He _really_ didn't want to do this. "Okay." He blinked. That was _not_ the word he wanted to come out of his mouth at this moment. He was looking for the word "no."

"Okay. One…two…three." Ginny kicked up from the ground, Neville kicking just behind her with his eyes screwed shut. As they rose into the air, Neville clasped onto Ginny's waist for dear life, knees tight around the broomstick.

Ginny started to make a casual loop over the heads of the onlookers. She'd gotten him off the ground. This was a start. She looked over her shoulder. He looked so nervous, and his eyes were still shut.

"Hey, Nev. Neville? Open your eyes."

He shook his head.

"We're safe. Open them."

Slowly, Neville cracked one eye open. It wasn't that bad. They were about twenty feet above the heads of their companions. Ginny seemed to have complete control of situation. He was okay. The broom wasn't leaning forward or anything. The ground stayed a respectable and firm distance away. He opened the other eye.

They stayed up in the air for another ten minutes, slowly gaining another fifteen feet before Ginny said anything else. "Alright. We're going to go down now."  
Neville felt his stomach tighten into a knot. But he trusted Ginny. "Okay." He could do this. He could keep his eyes open.

As they started the dive, Neville decided he could not do this. He buried his face in Ginny's back. Unfortunately, this caused Ginny to lean forward more and take the first part of the dive at a steeper angle than she'd planned.

"Relax, Neville, loosen up," she urged.

He did, but only fractionally.

She quickly had the dive back under complete control, and they landed, the ground jarring Neville's feet a little because he wasn't paying attention. "You can let go now," she said, after a moment.

Neville looked around and let go, seeing that his feet were firmly planted on the ground. He'd made it.

Ginny handed the broom back to Harry. "Thank you."

Getting Hermione onto a broom turned out to be slightly less of an ordeal. Her dilemma was in deciding whether she wanted to ride with Harry or Ron. Common sense ruled and she decided to fly with Harry as he was probably the better of the two fliers; not that she told either of them that that's why she chose Harry.

While she went into the air with Harry, Ron nursed a bruised ego on the ground. He contemplated getting on his broom and flying circles around them, but ruled against it. He stood no chance against the _Firebolt_.

They spent the rest of the morning, until lunch, flying. Neville and Hermione were both prevailed upon to go up into the air alone, and they both managed it without incident.

Grinning, Ginny put her arm around Neville's shoulder. "Told you."

"Told me what" he asked.

"That flying isn't that bad. In fact, it's fun, isn't it?"

Neville considered. Well, it was, more or less. Fun once you got over the fear of hitting the ground face first. He told her as much.

After lunch, the adventurous ones were willing to take a break from the outdoors, sit down, and play Exploding Snap in Ron's room. It was a relatively safe game.

* * *

That night, after Mr. Weasley got home Mrs. Weasley accompanied Hermione, Neville, and Ginny to his grandmother's house. They'd been several times, searching through the books, but had so far found nothing. But there were a _lot_ of books there and they could have easily missed something.

And so, the search began again.

Neville, Ginny, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley each took a seat at the table and put a stack of books in front of them.

Several hours of research gave them the first hint they'd had so far. It wasn't anything big, but it was a start. A footnote (found by Hermione, naturally) directing them to a book called _Deadly Airs: Flora of Poisonous Nature._ It wasn't a book Neville owned, and it was a long shot, but it gave them somewhere to start from. Hermione copied the book name and author name onto a bit of parchment and tucked it into her pocket. She kept the book with her, determined to check it again for any more obscure references back at the Burrow.

Feeling that they might have a little more luck that night, they kept the candles burning and continued their research, though without any further success.

When they all stood to leave, Hermione sighed. "Neville, one of these days, I'm going to come in here and catalogue every one of these books. And organize them."

Neville surprised himself by chuckling. "Be my guest. Merlin knows _I'm_ never gonna get around to organizing it."

Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione, all laughed too. When Neville turned from them to go out the door, the women shared a smile. It was good to hear Neville laugh; he wasn't doing that often enough these days.


	17. The Hunt

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** Hi. I know it's been a while…a year. I'm sorry. I only just got my story off of my other computer and I've been busy, and yeah. I'm done with excuses now. If you're still reading, enjoy.

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Neville, Ginny, Hermione, and Tonks readied themselves for the trip to visit the library of the Ravenclaw Hermione had written to. Neville held the corked glass tube with his purple flower in one hand; Mrs. Weasley had charmed the glass container shortly after Neville brought it back to the Burrow to help further keep the plant in a state of stasis. It would not do well for the plant to completely dry out or fall to pieces before they found a reference point for it. Hermione had with her a book bag, stuffed with parchment for notes, quills, ink, and a couple of pencils. She took the glass container carefully from Neville and put it in her bag. Ginny brushed a few strands of hair out of the way behind her ears with her fingers.

"Everybody ready?" asked Tonks, lighting the grate with her wand.

Hermione unfurled a letter from her bag, looked at it, put it away, and took a pinch of the Floo powder Ginny held out to her. "Villa Villekulla!" She stepped up the fire and was swept away.

Tonks smacked herself. "I should have gone first to make sure everything is alright!" She took a pinch of the proffered powder. "Villa Villekulla!"

When Tonks was gone, Neville stepped up, tossed his powder, and hoped he pronounced the name of the place correctly. It was a little bit of a mouthful. "Villa Villekulla!" Sure enough, when he found his footing again he was standing in a living room which, in many respects, was not unlike his own living room back home. There was a large clock in the corner and floral printed couches. Plenty of wood around. However this room was slightly more brightly lit, and felt a little more lived in. Tonks was looking around. Hermione was greeting a boy who was sitting on one of the couches, feet out in front of him, reading a book. He set the book down to stand and greet them, taking his feet off the couch and sliding them back into his shoes. Neville supposed this must be Anthony Goldstein. He had dark, fairly short hair, was around Neville's height, and was taking his glasses off and laying them on the coffee table on top of the book he had been reading.

He seemed amiable enough as he greeted Hermione.

While Neville had been looking around, Ginny had come through the fire last.

Anthony lifted an eyebrow briefly and smiled. "Quite the train you bring, Hermione."

Hermione wasn't sure quite how to take that, but nevertheless began introductions. "Tony, this is Neville L—"

"Longbottom. I know. Hermione, we're in the same year after all." He turned to Neville. "I'm very sorry about your loss, as well as the way _The Daily Prophet_ handled things. My father had a few sharp words with Ms. Skeeter over it, not that it has done any good, I think. It usually doesn't."

Neville blinked, a little confused. "Your father?"

"He's one of the editors at the _Prophet_. Unfortunately he wasn't working the day your grandmother's obituary was printed." He gave a little nod. "Ginny Weasley?"

"Nice to meet you."

"I've seen you at Ravenclaw Quidditch games."

She smiled. "A good sportswoman keeps her eye on the competition."

He turned his attention to Tonks. "I do not recognize you." He frowned. He was usually very good at recalling names and faces.

"This is Ginny's cousin. Nell Dimmwater. She came to help us with our research," Hermione explained.

Tonks stuck out her hand and shook hands with Anthony. Before coming over she had morphed. Her hair wasn't quite the red-orange that most of the Weasley household possessed, but it was a light auburn. She wore a sprinkling of freckles across her face, slightly lighter skin than usual, and a nose that looked identical to Ginny's. "Nice to meet you."

"The same." He redirected his attention to Hermione, inviting the four of them to sit down. "Your letter was rather vague, except that you made it clear that you need to use my library. Anything in particular, or just missing the feeling of being surrounded by books, Hermione?" He smiled.

Hermione smiled back before becoming serious again. "Neville found a plant, a plant he can't identify and has good reason to believe is highly poisonous. We've yet to run across any photographs or descriptions of this plant in either Neville's library or Ginny's. I recall you bragging in class one day that your library contains at least a couple of thousand books, dating back for generations, on every subject matter conceivable." There was a slight bit of teasing to her voice. This was a classmate she got along with, someone with a decent intellect, more interested in reading than possibly singing his eyebrows off in a game of Exploding Snap. She sometimes wondered if she would have done better in Ravenclaw, as the hat had suggested. If she had, she likely would not have thrown her lot in with Ron and Harry. She wouldn't have done the things she had the last five years. Wouldn't have made a Polyjuice potion or fought Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. Maybe she would have found companions likeminded with herself in Ravenclaw and been very happy, or maybe she would have withdrawn further into herself, become even more socially awkward and out of touch with the real world. There was really no way to know. At any rate, she was content at the moment with who she was and where she was, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

"As a matter of fact, I do have an impressive library, just as you described. Do you have the flower or can you describe it accurately? I may have a higher likelihood of finding it or pointing the four of you in the correct direction if you can tell me what we're looking for."

Hermione withdrew the glass tube from her book bag and handed it to Anthony.

He examined it as best he could through the glass for a couple of minutes before handing it back.

"I've never seen anything like it. I wish I had and could be of more help. You're welcome to borrow anything that looks likely in the library."

Neville watched Hermione carefully put the plant back in her bag. "It looks barely familiar, as if I may have seen it in a book a long time ago, or read about it, but I can't identify it at all. I'm fairly sure that it's fatally poisonous if you're exposed to it for a few hours, which is why we're keeping it bottled up. All we have to go on is this plant and a book titled _Deadly Airs: Flora of a Poisonous Nature_."

Anthony looked thoughtful and nodded. "Come. Does anyone need anything to drink? Or eat?"

Everyone was fine, they ate just before Flooing over and told him as much.

"Alright. I'll show you the way to the library." He stood and led them over to a door on the far side of the room. He gripped the handle and said, "Library" before pulling it open. He led the way in. The library was indeed fairly impressive, most definitely bigger than Neville's own family library. And better organized. Fiction made up a cube off in one corner. Non-fiction was organized by subject. Someone had painstakingly divided the non-fiction books into sections based on their topics with a cross reference list for books not included in that section that might be helpful all the same detailing title, author, and section.

Hermione had to admit that if nothing else the organization was impressive. Of course, this was a private library, there weren't as many books as Hogwarts, but these appeared to be impeccably organized.

In addition to the shelves that lined the walls, there were also freestanding shelves filled and arranged around the room. A little off-center of the room a round table and a few beat up, but comfy looking chairs were sitting. A similar set-up was hiding in the cube that was the fiction section.

"If you don't mind, I'll assist with the reading as best I can," offered Anthony.

They began to work, taking piles of books at a time (beginning with the Herbology section) and scanning through them for any of the keywords Neville had pegged as likely to be in a description of the plant.

Around four hours later there had been some very minimal success. _Pugnacious Purple Plants_ was set aside to be carefully gone through, as well as _Deadly Airs_. After all, the flower from the vase was purple and something that killed you in the course of a few hours would probably be considered an aggressive plant. They also set aside _Vile Blooms_ and _Rare and Unusual Plants of the British Isles. _Granted, they didn't know where the flower was from; it could be from anywhere, but until they had a better idea, home was as good of a place to start as anywhere else.

After so many hours of staring at page after page after page, they all needed a break, at least for a little while.

"Would anyone like something to eat? It's after two," offered Anthony, standing and putting his stack of completed and unhelpful books back in their proper place on the shelf. The others began to do likewise.

"Sure," Tonks said.

Anthony led the way back through the living room and into the second of the two doors in the living room. The first had led to the library, this second led to the kitchen. Apparently you could not get outside from the living room.

There was a small table in the kitchen and an assortment of cooking implements. Hermione was somewhat surprised to see a few Muggle things she recognized.

"Some things can be taught operate without electricity; magic is a fair substitute," he told her, as she eyed the blender.

Half an hour later they were enjoying sandwiches and drinks, discussing heritage. "Well, over there years my family has had members in every house at Hogwarts. This building here has been in the family for generations. I don't know if I could accurately give you a percentage or not, but my family has been a mix of Pure-bloods, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns for a while now. Most of my family doesn't buy into the idea of blood-purity being all important, though you get one every once in a while."

Neville nodded. "I know there are families that are considered Pureblood. Mine is, and I know yours is, Ginny, but most families really do have a little bit of Muggle or Muggle-born somewhere in their background."

"As it is, if only 'Pureblooded' families married, wizards would soon either die out or suffer from inbreeding with various problems as a result." Hermione took a sip of her water. "Where is the bathroom?"

"Go back into the living room and through the door where we went to the library."

Hermione followed his instructions, slightly confused. There were only the two doors in the living room, the door that led to the library and the one the led to the kitchen. Right? She rolled her eyes and pulled on the library door. It wouldn't open. "Specify please."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Library." She tugged and sure enough when she opened the door, there was the library. She closed the door again. "Toilet." She pulled on the door again and it opened to a nice looking bathroom.

* * *

When Hermione came back into the kitchen she asked, "What sort of spell is on the other door?"

"The same sort that is on this door. From the outside, this house doesn't appear much bigger than the living room. With the spell on the door, we can add about six rooms per door. It's quite convenient. This door leads to my parents' bedroom, the kitchen, and the dining room. The other one leads to the library, the bathroom, my room, and the guest room." He started explaining the mechanics of the spell as best he could.

"If no one minds, I'm going to work upstairs on those books again," Neville said, putting his plate and glass in the sink.

"We ought to all go help," Anthony said.

* * *

Working until dinnertime when they finally returned home, gave Neville about a dozen books that he wanted to check over carefully. Anthony told them they were welcome to come back when he finished with those books (they hadn't gotten through all of the Herbology books in that single afternoon), and they could go through the rest of the books when he brought them back.

Neville thanked him sincerely. He'd be back as soon as he'd gone through all of these. Somewhere in this library, there had to be the answers he was looking for.

* * *

Neville fell asleep downstairs on the couch, reading through the first couple of his books until he passed out. Ginny, coming downstairs for a snack saw Neville on the couch, books stalked next to him, and one open in his lap. His head leaned back at what looked like an uncomfortable angle, his mouth gaping open. She picked up a set of notes next to him. He had documented page numbers to revisit and written his own description of the flower and what he knew about it.

Ginny moved the books all off of the couch, marking the place in the open one with the parchment he took his notes on. That done she went upstairs and brought down a blanket and a pillow, trying to make him a little more comfortable without waking him up. He looked so tired. And sad. She wanted to give him a hug, but didn't want to wake him. She went back upstairs to go to sleep, not bothering with her late night snack.


	18. Piecing Things Together

**Chapter 18: Piecing Things Together**

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**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** Please don't hate me. Real life has taken some pretty drastic turns in the past year and writing fan fiction has not made it high up on my priorities list. Not to mention, I was about a page into this chapter and couldn't figure out where the heck I was going with it in the short run. I know now. I'm hoping to get another chapter up by the end of the week. If you're willing to forgive the long pause in updating…review?

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Neville had taken over Ron's desk and Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's Chess on Ron's bed. It was close to midnight, but no one felt like going to bed yet. Ginny was watching the game, and Hermione sat on Harry's bed, carefully reading over the book from Neville's library yet again.

Neville was making a list. Well, he would be as soon as he remembered where he left his quills. He had ink, and paper, but no quills. "Ginny, could you get a quill from my trunk?"

"Sure thing." Ginny was lying on her stomach, head on top of her arms, watching the Chess game. She reached down to open the trunk and rummaged around for a quill. She sat up and tossed it dart-style at Neville.

He surprised both himself and her by managing to catch it. He wasn't aware he could do that.

She grinned at him. "Nice catch."

He arched an eyebrow. "Good throw." He turned back to his work. He needed to make a list of what he knew. Next to him—sealed up—were the flowers from the vase. Well, Gran clearly wouldn't have eaten some strange plant that appeared in her room, so if it poisoned her, it had to be by breathing it. Or someone forced it down her throat…but there would have been some sign of that.

_1. Plant poison potent enough to be easily (accidentally?) inhaled—doesn't have to be eaten or mixed in a potion._

What else did he know? He looked at the plant and studied it carefully. The leaves were very distinctively shaped. He couldn't trust coloring very much after all this time, but the container itself had to have some sort of spell on it, because it had been preserved remarkably well for all the time flower had been in sealed in there.

_2. Saw edged leaves; long and slender. Dark green (?) in color._

He frowned at the second part. He couldn't remember the exact shade of green, but he was fairly sure it was dark, and he knew he'd know it if he saw it again. What else? Ah, the flower itself.

_3. Four flowers per large plant stalk; about 12 tiny petals on each flower. Silver purple in color, with a brown center. Stalk is bristly._

So what else did he know? He knew what the plant looked like, and more or less how it must have killed his Gran. Something that killed fairly quietly; the Medics had completely ignored it when they came in. And it didn't kill her instantaneously, but it drained her strength fairly quickly. There had to be spores or pollen on it that she breathed in. Or maybe some sort of fume that came out of the plant. He'd heard of flowers like that.

_4. Not instantaneous, but definitely strength draining—possibly a paralyzing agent?_

Neville blinked. He hadn't even thought of _that_ 'til he wrote it down. That would make sense actually. Something that paralyzes muscles and organs; if she was breathing it in, then it might paralyze her lungs, make it hard for her to breathe, until eventually she _couldn't_ breathe. Yes, that did make a lot of sense. It was a good theory for the moment. Sadly, those four little points seemed about all he knew, and the fourth was pure guesswork. He sighed.

Ginny glanced over at him. She looked at Hermione, Ron, and Harry, all involved in what they were doing. She walked across the room over to the desk and asked quietly, "You alright?"

"Just fine." He covered the paper with his arm and then couldn't help wincing. His arm felt wet; apparently, not all the ink had dried yet. He looked at the underside of his arm. Yup, plenty of ink on it, but the paper hadn't smeared too badly at least.

"Why don't we go for a walk? You look like you could use some air."

Neville looked around. It didn't seem like anyone would miss them. He'd seen Hermione in that intense study mode before; she might not notice if someone set fire to the bed she was on. And Harry seemed to have a sporting chance against Ron at the moment, so both were exerting their full concentration on the game. "Sure."

The two of them left, more or less unnoticed. They slipped outside through the kitchen door. The air was only slightly cool. It was comfortable, and refreshing. There were no clouds, and the stars shone brightly.

"It's nice out," he said.

"Yeah." They walked in silence for a moment. "We'll catch her, you know. Lestrange won't be able to run forever."

Neville smiled weakly, appreciating Ginny's effort. "We can only hope."

The silence stretched for a long moment before Ginny asked, "Will you write to Dumbledore soon?"

Neville frowned. "Why Dumbledore? Why do all of you always say Dumbledore? You know, there are other teachers at the school too, Ginny. Teachers who have helped the rest of the students. You know Dumbledore's got his Dream Team. I'm just not one of them. Never have been."

Ginny started to protest.

"There are other teachers who help students though. Look, I know Dumbledore is great and all that, but plenty of us feel like we're ignored by him most of the time. The teachers who have been there for me are Sprout and McGonagall."

"McGonagall?" Ginny asked, surprised.

He nodded. "Yes. McGonagall. She's always made sure I got help in her class when I needed it, whether from her or another student. And Professor Sprout has always encouraged me and given me fairly free run of the greenhouses the last few years. I won't write to Dumbledore—not yet—but I could write to Sprout. And maybe Madam Pince; not that she'd let the book leave Hogwarts anyway, but she would hold the book and put it aside for me for start of term." It wasn't really a bad idea. Granted, he was more likely to get help from Sprout than Pince. A book titled _Deadly Airs_ would almost certainly be in the restricted section. But Sprout would write him a note for it without trouble.

"That's true."

They walked on in silence, side by side, the backs of their hands occasionally brushing one another.

Neville tried to figure out what day it was now. Here—with the Weasleys, and Harry, and Hermione—he seemed to lose all track of the days. "What day is it?"

"The thirteenth. Well, it is after midnight, so technically the fourteenth now," she said, looking up at the stars.

He looked around. They had wandered farther from the house than he'd thought. He turned behind him and could see it in the distance, maybe a hundred yards away. It seemed like no time had passed. How on earth did they get that far off?

"It's late. We should go back to the house."

Ginny studied him a moment, then started walking. "It looks like the fresh air has done you some good."

Neville couldn't help grinning and raced a few steps to catch up to her.

They heard the harsh voice and dived, just barely missing the spell. They hit the ground almost simultaneously. They looked around as best they could, trying to stay flat to the ground.

"Whoever it is must be behind one of the trees," Ginny said, just barely loud enough for Neville to hear.

"We've got to make a break for the house. I don't have a wand, do you?"

"No. On three, roll left. They'll aim for us again. One…two…three."

As Neville rolled left, and Ginny rolled right, the voice repeated, "_Stupefy_!"

Neville glanced at a scorch mark in the ground between them. He grabbed Ginny's hand and they scrambled to their feet, taking off at a dead run. Whoever it was didn't want them dead—yet, anyway—only out of action, so they had a sporting chance. The attacker wanted live captives.

They kept running. Neville clamped his free hand to his side. He was cramping up from the sprint. They paused behind a tree.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

And they were running again. Thirty yards to the house. They had to get away. Couldn't get caught. They just couldn't. Neville couldn't let them—whoever _them_ was—get Ginny. They had to get to the house!

Neville heard an unidentifiable rumble and a yell behind him. They kept running. Huffing and puffing with the effort, Neville and Ginny barreled through the kitchen door with a crash and a bang.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur. Neville was gripping Ginny's hand and suddenly Bill was down in the kitchen, wand drawn. A fire sprang up in the grate and Bill tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. "Get going. Don't leave until someone comes to get you. _Now_." He jerked his head towards the fireplace and shouted, "Spinner's End!"

Ginny looked at her eldest brother, mouth open to protest as redheads started descending the stairs, quickly filling the kitchen. It wasn't long before Neville and Ginny were thrust towards the green flames, still gripping hands, and emerged in a dark and dingy living room. They lay sprawled on the floor catching their breaths.

"Where are we?"

"No idea. Are you okay?" he asked, craning his neck to look at her.

She nodded, propping herself up on her elbows to take stock of the situation. "I think so."

Taking in the cluttered mess around them, Neville heard the last voice he would have expected to at that moment, a few feet off to his right, cold and low. "Longbottom! Weasley! Explain yourselves."

They were just starting to bring themselves to their feet when a few more hurtling bodies hit them, and Neville and Ginny were back on the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. "Ron, get off!"

"I can't, Hermione's on my leg."

"Move it, I'm stuck."

Severus Snape murmured. "Am I ever to be rid of these idiotic children?" He moved to stand in front of the fireplace, looking down on the intruders. "Explain yourselves. That was not a request."

It took some pushing and pulling, but the group managed to assemble themselves in front of the Hogwarts potions master. For all the gold in Gringotts Neville couldn't figure out why they were there of all places. It was only August and here they were, standing in front of Snape as though they were about to have to confess something and be given detention.

Ginny was scowling in a way that Neville was sure could peel paint off the walls if she tried. Hermione broke in before she got the chance. "Professor, we were all at the Weasleys and something happened. I'm not entirely sure what. We were sent here for safe keeping. As soon as things have settled the Weasleys will come and take us home."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Longbottom? Weasley? Anything to add?"

"We were attacked outside the house. We don't know who did it."

Hermione turned to Ginny and hissed, "What were you doing out of the house at this hour? You know better."

The professor crossed his arms, looking bored. "I'll see how long I'm to be stuck with you. Settle yourselves on the furniture and don't touch anything." He disappeared around a corner of the room.

Hermione put her hands on Ginny's shoulders, turning her around. "You got attacked? What happened?"

Ginny shook her off, stalking towards a chair and moving a book off of it. "We were out for a walk. We must have passed the wards around the property without realizing it. We never saw whoever-it-was, we just made a dash for the house. We're fine."

Harry looked around, torn between curiosity and disgust. "Of all the places they could have picked to keep us safe, they sent us here."

Neville simply continued to stand by the fireplace. Snape had said not to touch anything and there were various odds and ends sitting on most of the furniture.

Ron frowned, tugging at his pajamas a little, the cuffs too short. "Does anyone have their wand? I don't have mine on me and I feel naked without it. Especially being in Snape's cave or wherever he lives."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "It's a house, Ron. And I have mine with me. I'm sure your family must have had a good reason to send us here."

Harry crossed the room, leaning up against Ginny's chair. "It's the last place we want to be, so it's the last place anybody would look for us."

The brunette scrunched up her face. "Isn't it odd though…if this were some sort of pre-arranged place to keep us safe if something were to happen at the Burrow, shouldn't your parents have told us ahead of time? Something along the lines of, 'if there's an emergency, take the Floo network to Spinner's End.' I mean it really doesn't make a lot of sense."

Neville gathered up his courage to wander away from the fireplace, noticing stacks of books piled in the corner. He was just starting to skim through the titles when Professor Snape's voice sliced through the air again. "It looks as though I'm to be stuck with you for an indefinite period of time. The intruders appear to be gone from your charming residence, Weasleys, however, a team of wizards is still hard at work discovering the precise nature of the security breach. In the meantime, I am given the oh-so-pleasant task of babysitting. Apparently even in August I'm not to have a break. Amuse yourselves or sleep. Disturb nothing." Snape waved his hand dismissively towards a door on his right. "You'll find blankets in that linen closet. I've work to get on with. Don't bother me unless Longbottom manages to blow up one or the other of you, preferably, all of you." Snape stalked from the room, leaving them in an eerie silence.  
"That's it? Here are the blankets and bugger off?"

Hermione snorted softly. "I hardly imagine he's off to sleep. I expect Dumbledore's ordered him to double his defenses." She started off across the room to the linen closet. She didn't have the door more than an inch open when she wrinkled her nose at the musty smell emanating from it. Ron was the next nearest to it and made a gagging motion. Hermione made an attempt to defend Snape. "It's not as though he's home often or probably has much in the way of guests." She opened the closet the rest of the way and started pulling out old woolen blankets in various shades of green, gray, and brown, none of them smelling exactly clean. She started spreading them out over the floor, trying to pile them a few thick, wanting to create some sort of protection from the floor. Four blankets spread out over the floor hardly looked like enough cushion, but she wanted to make sure there was enough of them spread over the floor for the five of them to sleep. "Gin and I can take this pile, and you three can take the pile on the other side of the table."

Ron rolled his eyes. "As if I can sleep now? What the bloody hell were you thinking going out in the middle of the night like that, Ginny?"

Neville tuned the bickering siblings out, looking down the spines at Snape's books, carefully not touching them. He had to squint in the dimly lit room to make out many of the titles. There it was, in the last place he would have ever thought to ask to look or dared to ask about. _Deadly Airs_.


	19. Deadly

**Chapter 19: Deadly**

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**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note:** I'm excited with the direction this story is going and I'm hoping the rest of you are too…

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Neville's mouth went dry for a minute as he stared at the bookshelf. Here it was, inchesfrom his hand, exactly what he had been searching for in vain the last two weeks. All he had to do was reach out and take it—the best lead he had in his Gran's murder. Granted, reaching out and taking it meant he was going to have to deal with Snape. Then again, here was, expected to sleep on Snape's living room floor, how much more in his face could he possibly get?

A hand touched him on the shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin, certain that it was Snape and that the potions master knew Neville was about to take something that belonged to him. "Neville? We ought to get whatever sleep we can." It was Ginny.

He shook his head. "Go on without me. I've got some things to do."

"Snape's going to throw a fit if anything ends up out of place; for some reason I feel like he'd know, even in this mess." Ginny looked around, wrinkling her nose at the dirty clutter that surrounded them. She wondered how Snape could stand the stench of unclean. A person would think that with a nose that size, the smell would get to him more than normal people rather than less. The whole place tasted of stale air and grime. Maybe he was just immune to it.

"I'll have to take my chances, Ginny. I found the book," he whispered urgently, not wanting anyone else to hear; it looked like they were all lying down already, though probably not asleep. Her eyes followed his hand to the book just beyond his fingers. "See?"

She nodded, but didn't open her mouth. She understood. She twined her fingers in his. They'd jump this hurdle together, however it ended up. They reached for the book together and sat down against the wall next to one another, starting to read by a single dim light.

Neville wondered how a person could have so many books in a room and not bother with decent lighting. His eyes were starting to ache, feeling as though he were trying to read in the dark. Ginny had fallen asleep leaning against Neville's shoulder about ten minutes earlier, and Neville was finally ready to give up for the night. He hugged the book up against his body with one arm. Neville leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes with Ginny's steady breathing next to him lulling him to sleep.

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Neville woke up to the sound of voices. One arm was resting on Ginny's knees, the other still held the book clutched to his chest. "Don't say anything. I can just make out what they're saying," Ginny whispered into his ear. It was all Neville could do not to squirm at the sudden intrusion of warm air in his ear.

"Is it safe to take them home?"

"There's no sign of anyone still there or any indication they've planned to come back."

"The wards around the property have been strengthened. Things should be safe for the moment. We'll have to keep a tighter rein on them when they're home and make sure they don't wander off. After tonight I think they'll behave."

Snape's voice was curt, with an edge of fatigue to it. "I should hope so. If they haven't learned from this mess, then they should have been killed long ago because they clearly don't value their lives themselves and it should not be anyone else's job to mind their lives for them. Bellatrix Lestrange is having fun. I have reason to believe she prompted the attack tonight, though there's no evidence that she was present."

"If it's all right with everyone here, I'd like to take my children home. All of them." It was Mrs. Weasley's voice.

"Does it really make sense to wake them now? They're probably all asleep. Why not let them get what sleep they can?"

Remus chuckled. "If I know the lot of them, they're probably not sleeping. Eavesdropping would be a better guess. I'd bet my wand at least one of them is awake and listening."

Ginny and Neville looked at one another a little guiltily but didn't even bother feigning sleep as the adults entered the room. They did squash the book between the two of them.

Remus Lupin had a satisfied grin on his face. Harry rolled over and Hermione sat up. Ron was actually asleep and Hermione had to kick him to get him up. Neville looked at the assembled adults—Snape, Remus Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Tonks, and Charlie. "Mad-Eye is doing a final security check at the house and then you can all come home to your beds, assuming Dumbledore doesn't have something else in mind, which he very well may."

Hermione tugged the blanket out from where it was tangled around Ron and started folding it. Her corners were neat, and there were no wrinkles in the musty wool. "So we can go back to the Burrow tonight?" She put it off to the side and started on the next one.

"You can go just soon as Arthur comes to give the all clear sign. You'll all be Apperating home with us."

It was nearly another half an hour before Mr. Weasley arrived. He had a hurried conversation with the adults in the other room before coming out and making the announcement to Neville and the others. "You won't be going back to the Burrow tonight. Or at all really, the rest of the summer. Your things will be gathered up into your trunks tonight and in the morning you'll be taken over to Hogwarts. At the moment, Dumbledore feels this is the safest place for you. There's no way of knowing if anything else is planned for tonight, but it's better not to take the risk. This house is one of the most heavily warded we have access to. You'll be safe here."

Hermione got up, exasperated, and took the neatly folded old blankets out of the closet and began spreading them on the floor again, making up bedding for five as best she could.

"Summer's not over yet and we've already got to go back?" Ron asked, staring at his father.

Snape raised an eyebrow distastefully at him and sneered. "Would you rather spend the remainder of the summer here? I'm sure I could find work for you to do—de-shelling poisonous crabs, pickling bat eyes, grinding slowstone…"

Ron muttered, "Can we leave for Hogwarts now?"

Hermione caught the words and shot Ron a sharp look, while Harry tried not to laugh.

Ron, Neville, and Harry slept on their pile of blankets on one side of the room while Hermione and Ginny took the other side. The book was digging into Neville's back, but he hadn't wanted to put it back on the shelf. He'd ask Snape about it in the morning, first thing when he got up. It was a long while before he fell asleep again, and it was a restless, uneasy one when he got there.

* * *

Neville awoke to several unpleasant sensations: something was digging into his back, someone was shaking him, and his head was pounding. A voice hissed at him. "Neville, get up." He rolled off the blanket as Hermione started picking up the blankets and folding them, the book hitting the floor with a loud thunk as it fell out. Harry picked it up.

"What's this?"

He snatched it back. "It's Snape's. It's the book I've been looking for. I think it'll tell me what killed Gran." He crossed the room, slipping it back into its place on the bookshelf. Better to ask about borrowing it when it wasn't actually in his hands. By the time Neville had crossed the room again, Harry and Hermione had folded and put away all the blankets. "Does anyone know where the bathroom is?"

Ron pointed him off in the right direction. Neville's trouble sleeping had meant he was the last one up—the rest of them had been awake for a bit already. By the time he came back to the living room, Snape indicated that they were to come to the kitchen for breakfast, which turned out to be tea, slightly stale bread, and some rather slimy jam. Someone bringing the Portkey to take them to Hogwarts would be arriving shortly. Molly was packing their and doing laundry right now—they'd have their things in Gryffindor Tower by tonight.

Breakfast that morning had to be one of the most awkward affairs Neville had ever been to. Hermione was attempting to make polite conversation with Snape, or rather, Snape's version of polite conversation—she was asking him about various potions she'd been researching this summer and getting short, terse answers from him. Occasionally, Neville noticed, a question seemed to surprise him, and Snape gave the answer a little less grudgingly. Neither Ron nor Harry said much at all. Ginny occasionally made a comment, but mostly kept looking at Neville as if to make sure he was eating, or make sure he wasn't about to disappear.

It felt like an eternity before they heard the sound of Professor McGonagall Flooing into the house. She found them all in the kitchen. Ginny was rinsing the plates and glasses at the sink while Neville dried them. Harry and Ron jumped up as soon as they heard her muffled but unmistakable voice calling through the house. They were ready to get out. Hermione followed quickly behind them. Ginny nudged Neville in the ribs. He almost dropped the glass he was holding—not because she surprised him with the nudge, but because he knew what the nudge meant. She was reminding him to ask Snape about the book.

Neville bit his lip and looked at Snape. The Professor had an expression of mixed boredom and disgust on his face as though listening to the same excuse for the fiftieth time about how someone's owl had pooped on their homework and having to actually smell the soiled parchment. "Professor, I wanted to ask you something." Neville was pleased that his voice wasn't shaking as much as he expected. Snape didn't say anything so he went on after a moment. "Professor, I heard what you said about L-Lestrange. I've been thinking the same thing. I need to borrow a book. _Deadly Airs_. I think I know what plant killed Gran but I haven't been able to find its name anywhere. The closest I got was a footnote pointing that book and I haven't been able to find it anywhere and I have to know what happened to my Gran. She did it. I know she did. I saved the plant. Lestrange did this. And she's going to pay. I just need to prove it." He was shaking, but he wasn't backing down.

Snape gave Neville an odd look; it was hardly more than a passing glance, and he left the room, heading to the living room to join McGonagall and the others.

Ginny squeezed Neville's hand. "You tried. He's just a bastard. We'll find the book somewhere else. We're going to Hogwarts. One of the teachers will have it. One that isn't such a jackass."

Neville frowned. "Professor Sprout might have it." Neville and Ginny made their way into the living room. McGonagall, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were holding onto a spool of thread.

"Get over here, Neville, Ginny. The Portkey leaves in less than 2 minutes." Neville and Ginny each took a hold of the spool. All six of them were awkwardly crowded around the small object.

Snape had disappeared and reappeared with a cloth sack which he handed to Neville. Neville looked inside, seeing several large books. "Professor…?"

The dark haired potions master drawled, "I had better receive those books back in the exact condition you received them in."

Neville didn't have time to respond and get over the shock beyond muttering "thank you" before, bag slung over his shoulder, the Portkey whisked the Gryffindors away. They emerged in the Great Hall, next to the staff table. McGonagall surveyed the scene to see that they'd all arrived safely. She was her usual self, perhaps a little more flustered than normal. "These are not the usual circumstances for your return to Hogwarts, but we will all have to bear with the situation as it is. For the time until school starts, I must inform you that none of you are permitted to leave Hogwarts, for your own safety. Gryffindor Tower will be open to you as usual, and your are permitted to use the library, though Madam Pince is still on vacation. The Quidditch Pitch is open to you as well. A table has been set up in the Gryffindor common room, and you will take your meals there." She paused. "Except for this evening. Headmaster Dumbledore has requested to speak with you over dinner in his office. Mr. Potter, I trust you remember the way to his office?" Harry nodded. "The password this term is Liquorice Wands. Professor Flitwick and myself are around, should you need anything, as well as Hagrid and Mr. Filch."

"What about Professor Sprout and the Greenhouses?" asked Neville.

McGonagall blinked. "Professor Sprout is gathering some exotic plants and traveling at the moment. She may or may not be back before classes resume. I have no doubt, Mr. Longbottom, that you know your way around the Greenhouses sufficiently to take care of anything you like without causing incident. If you'd like, I can write to her for you to be sure." Neville opened his mouth to ask another question and she raised her hand. "Your plants will be arriving from the Weasleys' home with the rest of your things, don't worry. Are there anymore questions?"

"Do we know what happened last night?" asked Hermione.

"Headmaster Dumbledore will answer all of your questions this evening."

"What about the Gryffindor password?"

McGonagall frowned, annoyed at herself for having forgotten to mention it. "Rook. I have some things to attend to if you'll excuse me." McGonagall exited the Hall, the five Gryffindors standing around, waiting.

Hermione took charge. "I guess the sensible thing would be to go on upstairs and settle in."

Ron snorted. "What settle in? None of our stuff is here. I'm going out to the Pitch. If nothing else, I can ride one of the school brooms 'til mine gets here." Harry and Ron went out to the Pitch. Hermione started off for Gryffindor Tower, still certain that it was the logical place to go, for whatever reason. Neville and Ginny did the sensible thing and sat down at one of the tables in the Great Hall. He took the canvas bag off his shoulder and showed Ginny the books Snape had loaned him.

"He gave it to your after all?"

"Yeah. _Deadly Airs_…and it looks like other stuff in here too." Neville started pulling the books out, laying them out on the table.

Ginny looked impressed. "Maybe he's not as much of a bastard as we thought."

Neville frowned, looking at the books. "Snape said the books better come back in the same condition I got them in."

"That's reasonable. They're probably new." She sounded doubtful. "Then again, _nothing_ in that house looked new. These look…ancient."

"He's made notes all over them." Neville opened each book, fascinated, flipping through and seeing a good number of the pages scrawled with notes. "I'm never going to get anything useful out of these without making notes and putting bookmarks in them. I think we're going to have to go upstairs and find something to write with and something to write on." They spent the rest of the morning in the library, taking quills and parchment from the desk for their notes. The reading went slow, partly because of the notes scrawled across most of the pages. Finally, hunger drove them up to Gryffindor Tower to drop the books off and see if Hermione wanted to eat.


	20. Teenagers

**Chapter 19: Deadly (Part 2)**

**

* * *

****Author's Note: **Okay, so I didn't realize that I had already posted Chapter 19: Deadly. I continued writing as if I was still working on Chapter 19. So Chapter 20 has Chapter 19 Part 2, and Chapter 20. Read and review, and I hope you enjoy, I know it's been a long wait. Chapter 21 is already underway, but this seemed like a better ending point for the chapter.

**

* * *

**Ginny looked impressed, glancing at all the titles one by one. If Snape had given Neville the extra books, they were bound to have what he was looking for. "Maybe he's not as much of a bastard as we thought he was."

Neville frowned, looking at the books. "Snape said the books better come back in the same condition I got them in."

"That's reasonable. They're probably new." She sounded doubtful. "Then again, _nothing_ in that house looked new. These look…ancient." Gingerly, she opened one.

"He's made notes all over them." Neville opened each book, fascinated, flipping through and seeing a good number of the pages scrawled with notes. "I'm never going to get anything useful out of these without making notes and putting bookmarks in them. I think we're going to have to go upstairs and find something to write with and something to write on." They spent the rest of the morning in the library, taking quills and parchment from the desk for their notes. The reading went slow, partly because of the notes scrawled across most of the pages, sometimes nearly obscuring all the printed text.

Neville had _Deadly Airs_ open on his right and the heaviest book of all, a glossary of plants with known magical properties, on his left. The going was slow and painstaking. The glossary was organized so oddly that it took Neville nearly an hour to get the hang of finding anything in it. Even once he found whatever he had been looking for, the margins were crammed with Snape's handwriting. Occasionally he had to ask Ginny to take a look at a page. In some cases, Snape had made notes, and crossed them out on his next reading, only to write something else on a subsequent visit to that particular section. Progress was slow. For all Neville knew about plants, he rather wished he weren't so abysmal at potions—the two went hand in hand together so well.

They went on studying. Occasionally they made comments to one another.

"I wish Professor Sprout were back for the term already."

"Have you thought of just showing it to a professor that _is_ here? It's not as though we're the only people in the castle." She sat, leaning back in the chair. Her book had been a dead end, and now she was looking through notes Neville had made.

"You still want me to run to Dumbledore."

"Don't sound so accusatory. And I'm not asking you to run. We've been trying to crawl towards an answer for two weeks. You're insisting on blazing a brand new trail through the forest when there's a perfectly good highway ten feet to your left." He pressed his lips together, and she noticed. "Don't look at me that way. It doesn't have to be Dumbledore. We can talk to McGonagall. Or Snape. If Sprout was here, you'd have already brought it to her." She crossed her arms, looking at him as though daring him to contradict her.

He didn't deny it.

"Let's have some lunch. You can make up your mind after that." She pushed herself to her feet.

He followed slowly, gathering the notes and slipping the books into the bag in which Snape had brought them.

Hermione was curled up in a chair by the empty fireplace, her head tucked down, snoring gently.

"Guess she didn't find anything to do and went back to sleep," Ginny said softly.

"Miss Wheezy!" whispered a voice about two feet high and off to their left. "Dobby is setting up lunch for you, Miss Wheezy, and Mister Sir." The house-elf was smiling brightly and he directed them to a table set for five people, just under the window. "There is lunch for Mister Harry Potter, sir, and his Wheezy and Hermione too." He bent low enough that his nose almost touched the floor. Neville thought this had to be the strangest dressed creature he'd ever seen. The house-elf was wearing running shorts, a tea cozy, and a large assortment of socks eye blindingly bright socks.

"Dobby, this is Neville Longbottom," Ginny said. "Neville, this is Dobby."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mister Neville Longbottom, sir!" He bowed low again. "Headmaster Dumbledore is having a message for you all." He pulled a small roll of parchment from one of his socks. He handed it to Ginny. "Where is MisterHarry Potter, sir? And his Wheezy?"

"Playing Quidditch."

"Dobby will bring Harry Potter and his Wheezy sandwiches! Is there anything else Dobby can do for you?"

"No, that's all Dobby, we'll wake Hermione up. Thanks," Ginny said.

Dobby disappeared with a crack of imploding air sufficient to wake Hermione. She sat up, looking around. "What was that?"

"That was Dobby just leaving. Come sit down and have some lunch. Dumbledore's got a message for us." The three of them seated themselves around the table and opened Dumbledore's note. Hermione read it aloud.

_Urgent business has called me away. While I am gone, have no fear; you are in excellent hands. While I do not expect any ill-winds to befall you at Hogwarts, I must urge you not to attempt to leave the grounds and to exercise caution at all times._

_Yours truly,_

_ABPWD_

"So much for getting any answers tonight," muttered Ginny, as she started spooning some pasta onto her plate.

* * *

Neville and Ginny wandered the grounds in the early evening light. Their belongings began arriving a couple of hours after lunch, starting with Harry and Hermione's things, then Neville's, and finally Ron and Ginny's. Presumably, Ron and Ginny's things were more spread out and needed more time to be collected. Neville's plants arrived last, hauled in several trips by Charlie and Bill. Bill's arm bore a handful of scratches from Crookshanks. They could have left all his shoes and underwear at the Burrow for all Neville cared just now—but his plants, those mattered. He was checking that each of his plants had made the trip safely, administering water and care to those that needed it, talking softly to them as he went along.

Ginny looked at a broken leaf that oozed a little pink goo. "They must be traumatized from all this moving." She stole a glance at Neville, thinking the plants probably weren't the only ones who'd been traumatized in the last couple of weeks. Was it still only August 14th? This was like the day that wouldn't end.

Neville moved the pots, sorting them into several sections. "I'm going to spend tomorrow planting these out here. Professor Sprout said I could have a little space _in_ the greenhouse, and more space behind it. Only a few of them are going in the greenhouse—I have to try and think about which ones really need to be there. I made a short list of the ones that will be able to take the best advantage of it." He patted a rather large terracotta pot fondly.

Ginny looked around and all the vegetation. "These weren't all at the Burrow, were they?" She spotted one that looked like purple crabgrass. She was fairly sure she'd have remembered that.

"No, no, some of these I left at home. But with no one there to take care of them…I really needed them all here. They're like close friends…and unlike Trevor, they never run away. I was _always_ losing him."

Ginny tilted her head, trying to remember. "Trevor?"

"My toad." Neville leaned up against the wall of the greenhouse, in the shade. He wiped a little sweat away, leaving a streak of dirt on his cheek. "He passed on earlier this summer—they're not exactly known for a long lifespan. I felt like I was always climbing under, around, and over furniture to catch him. I don't think I could tell you how many times I would go to put my foot in a shoe, and nearly squash him."

They spotted two shapes making lazy circles in the sky. "It looks like Harry and Ron are finally going to come in." Ginny said, raising a hand to her face to try to see more clearly.

Neville gave a regretful sigh. "We probably ought to too." He inhaled deeply, the smell of his plants around him, the grass, the earth. The sun was low in the sky. He caught himself looking at the way the light reflected in Ginny's hair. He gave himself a mental shake as they went inside, meeting Harry and Ron at the doors with their brooms.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Teenagers**

Neville woke up with the sun streaming in the window, mildly surprised to find himself in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Of all the places he'd slept in the past few weeks—at home with his Gran, in Ron's room at the Burrow, Snape's floor…Gryffindor Tower almost felt like the strangest place to wake up, even if he'd spent more nights there in the last five years than anywhere else. It seemed like the past day had last forever between that attack at the Weasleys and the trip to Snape's before finally ending up here at Hogwarts. He got dressed and went downstairs, leaving Harry and Ron still asleep.

"Mornin', Neville," Ginny said, yawning. She motioned to the breakfast laid out on the table in front of her.

He blinked, looking at her as he sat down. "Didn't expect to see you up this early. You look half-dead. Did you get any sleep at all?"

She shrugged. "I slept, just not very well. The room's all empty." She paused a moment, trying to formulate her response on an under rested brain. "Living with a house full of people, sharing a room with Hermione in the summer, and then the other girls during the year…sleeping alone seems unnatural anymore." She yawned. "It's just weird to fall asleep in a room where you can't hear anyone else breathing or snoring or doing anything…" She trailed off, stopping her rambling explanation by putting a piece of toast in her mouth.

He didn't know what to say in the silence. "I slept alright. Do you have any clue how much your brother snores?"

She laughed. "Yeah…sounds kind of like the Hogwarts Express rolling through sometimes."

Neville spread jam over a slice of toast. "So…what are you doing today?"

"I don't have anything on my agenda. I was thinking that we could keep on with trying to decipher Snape's notes and those books if you wanted. Oh, right you're transplanting—"

"—transplanting my plants," Neville finished. "I do have to do that today. I was thinking I ought to do that during the daylight—we can research in the afternoon or after dinner." _When did I become we? _he wondered, not exactly minding terribly. Her company would be welcome while he worked. Normally he liked to fuss over his plants alone; normally there wasn't anyone around to help. He didn't think he'd mind her being there.

Hermione came down the stairs, "Good morning, Neville, Ginny. It does feel odd to be back here without all the others, doesn't it? Rather empty? Though I do have to say, I'm not missing Parvati and Lavender's chattering in the least. Those girls get up at the crack of dawn to coat themselves in makeup." She settled herself at the table. "I see Harry and Ron are still asleep?"

"Of course they are."

Neville nodded in agreement about her earlier comment. "The grounds are really comforting, _especially_ without all the extra people."

"I think I'm going to go for a swim today. I was standing by the window for a while—it's gorgeous today. Weather like this never holds out long enough."

Neville nodded again, pushing his plate away. "I'm going outside too—I've got a lot of planting to do today." Neville was trying to sketch a map of where he wanted which plants when Harry and Ron came down the stairs, chatting.

"—perfect weather for flying, and now that we've got our brooms back here we can really get to practicing."

Harry settled at the table, adjusting his glasses. "Gin, you want to practice with us?"

"Can't. Neville and I are going to plant his plants today," she answered, helping herself to a little more oatmeal.

"What about you, Hermione, going to read your way through half the library since nobody is going to be around to bother you?" Ron asked, beginning to fill his plate.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, actually, I'm going swimming. The weather is too perfect to pass up."

Ron looked over at Harry. "It _is_ a little too hot for Quidditch. We've got all year for that. Maybe swimming isn't a bad idea." He stole a furtive glance at Hermione.

Harry could see that Ron was clearly a lost cause. "Ginny…"

"I told you, Neville and I are busy," Ginny replied. "Weren't you listening?"

Neville nodded, still a little surprised that he had seemed to turn into a "we." Not that he minded, of course…

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up at Harry and Ron. "Come swimming with us, Harry. It's not Quidditch, but you'll still get a good work out in, and isn't that the important point?"

Harry conceded and half an hour later Harry, Ron, and Hermione were headed to the lake with towels draped over their shoulders. Ginny and Neville walked side by side to the greenhouses. Neville opened a small shed, getting out the tools of the trade—trowels, spades, watering cans, gloves, clippers, and anything else he thought they might need. They worked side by side, talking all the while. "And do you like growing up in a big family?" he asked.

She shrugged, holding out the bulb of a _yeshi _plant in her left hand very carefully the way he had told her. "I pretty much like my life. Granted, it's the only life I know," she pointed out. She filled the fist sized hole with water and slowly lowered the bulb in as it started to squirm. "We don't usually have the newest or best of anything you can buy, but we pretty much feel like we've got enough. Mum always wanted a girl. Sometimes I'm not sure if she really got what she wanted when she got me."

"How do you mean?" he asked. He was up to his elbows in dirt with the _mureux pluma_, trying to be very careful about bountiful petals. Maybe tomorrow he'd come down and see it at dawn when it was at its best. August was half over and it would be dormant again soon.

Ginny shrugged, sitting back, resting on her heels. "Well, I think I'm a little more tomboyish than she hoped for. With six older brothers, you either learn how to take a joke and fight back, or you stay out of their way. With six of them, staying out of everyone's way isn't easy. Besides, I like being able to take care of myself. So what if I can't knit a sweater? Or bake?" She frowned. "Well…I _can_ do both. I just don't." She pushed her hair out of her face. "What about you? An only child, raised by grandparents…"

Neville stroked the roots of the _mureux pluma _in the soil, trying to calm them down as they got settled into their new home. "Well…I guess it's like you said. I don't know anything else." They worked in silence a while before he asked. "Do you think they'd like me? If they really knew me I mean."

"Who?"

His face went a little ruddy and he moved so that the _mureux pluma_ was between himself and her. "My parents."

Ginny stood up and wiped her hands on her pants, brushing the dirt off. "Neville, I can't imagine anyone disliking you, except for total gits like Malfoy. Your parents would like you. You're compassionate, you work hard…you're a good guy. And I didn't mean to make you think Mum doesn't love me or like me or something…I know she does. I just sometimes wonder if I live up to her expectations. She waited a long time for a daughter." She brushed her hair out of her face again. She growled. "Blasted hair won't stay out of my face. I keep thinking about cutting it all off or shaving my head, but I think she'd go ballistic."

"I…I like your hair the way it is," Neville said. He hurriedly corrected himself, "But it's your hair. If you want to cut it all off, just do it. I've got a razor you could use if you were serious about shaving it all off." He raised a hand to his face. "Not as though mine gets much use. I don't think I could grow a proper beard if I tried."

She couldn't help smiling. "Believe me when I say, Neville, that I can't imagine any reasonable person disliking you. Now where did you want this one?" She picked up a delicate, vine.

He didn't bother trying brush all the dirt off his arms, he just gave them a quick shake. "I was hoping to have this run along the greenhouse. If we plant it in the corner here, we can guide it to run up the side of the building. Naturally, this sort of vine likes to climb towards the light. They tend to grow near tall trees and wrap themselves around, growing straight up to the top."

Around midday, Dobby appeared. "Miss Wheezy! Neville Longbottom! Dobby has set up lunch for Harry Potter and his friends by the lake."

"We'll be along in a minute, Dobby, thanks," offered Ginny. Dobby beamed at them and disappeared with a crack. She picked up the watering can and used it to rinse off her hands. "Give me your hands, Neville." Neville extended his arms and she pushed his sleeve up to the elbows for him. She poured the water over his arms, from elbows to fingertips, emptying the rest of the watering can. She splashed some on his shoes on accident.

"I wish I had brought something to dry off with," muttered Neville.

She shook her wet hands. "C'mon. They'll dry as we walk."

They walked towards the lake and found Ron, Harry and Hermione enjoying a lunch on the grass. Dobby was setting places for Ginny and Neville. Hermione was arguing with him. "Dobby, you don't have to wait on us like this. Really, we're more than capable of taking care of lunch."

The elf drew himself up to his full height. "Dobby knows that. Dobby is a free elf, Miss. Dobby asked to take care of Harry Potter and his friends. Dobby wants to take care of Harry Potter and his friends."

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm buying you new socks soon, Dobby. Or a hat maybe." She had a large t-shirt on over her swimsuit, her wet hair clinging to the back of it. She relaxed back on one elbow. She seemed to notice Neville's wet arms then and offered him her slightly damp towel. "Sit down and eat, you two."

Ginny settled herself cross-legged on the blanket and took the towel after Neville. "How was your swim?"

Harry snorted. "The Giant Squid was feeling playful. Grabbed Ron by the leg when he wasn't paying attention and lifted him out of the water for a minute."

Ginny snickered, looking over at her brother. "Seriously?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Ron ignored the question, helping himself to another sandwich. "These are pretty good." He managed to drip mustard on his chest as he took a bite and Hermione made a disgusted sound.

"Can't you ever manage to eat without spilling all over yourself? You're like a small child! Only eventually _they_ grow up. I'm not sure _you_ ever will." She edged away from him.

He shrugged, reaching a finger down to swipe the mustard from his chest and lick it off. "So what? I'll jump in the water and be good as new again."

"If the Squid doesn't get you again," muttered Hermione crossly.

Lunch passed with amiable bickering between the two and conversation with everyone else. Neville mostly kept quiet. Ginny nudged him and whispered quietly, "He thinks she doesn't notice…but she does. It's kind of funny really."

"Pardon?"

She nodded her head slightly towards Ron and Hermione. Ron was just getting back in the water and Hermione was standing on the shore, telling him off about something. "The way he looks at her. He thinks she doesn't notice it…but she does. Sometimes anyway. I'm not sure he notices the way she looks at him though." She shook her head, laughing, watching Hermione wade out into the water as Ron backed farther away from her nagging. Eventually he taunted her far enough to the drop off point on the bottom of the lakebed and manage to dunk her under for a minute. Granted, she fought back ferociously.

He let her go. "Wasn't me. Must have been the Squid."

Neville and Ginny watched them with amusement. Harry seemed to have a hard time deciding whose team he wanted to be on and seemed to eventually pick Ron. They stayed by the lake until the sun started to sink in the sky. The weather was perfect. The sky was clear. Hearts were light. For just a little while, the five of them were just teenagers enjoying their summer vacation.

* * *

Neville and Ginny stayed awake, talking in the common room after the others had gone to their beds. The books Snape had loaned Neville were spread out on a nearby table, but they hadn't looked at them in several hours. He looked at her, sitting next to him on the couch, her legs curled up under her. Her head was resting on her chest as though holding it up was too much of an effort to be bothered with. "You've been exhausted since you woke up, Ginny. Why don't you go to bed?"

She shrugged. "I told you this morning. Sleeping alone doesn't feel natural anymore. I'm so used to there being other people around. I don't want to go up there."

Tentatively, Neville wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn't object. His other arm rested on the arm of the couch. "I'm sure you could stay in Hermione's room."

She leaned her head back on the couch sleepily, closing her eyes. "Not tonight. She's probably already asleep. I'm okay here right now. I'll ask her tomorrow." She paused for a long minute. "Stay with me?"

Neville nodded, even though her eyes were closed and she couldn't see him; his throat was a little too dry to speak. He fumbled a bit, turning so his back was against the arm of the couch and putting one leg between Ginny and the back of the couch without getting too tangled up. He brought his other leg up on her other side, just barely managing to get it on the couch. She shifted, half sitting, half lying between his legs. Her hair fell across her face, and her head rested on his chest. He couldn't help but think that it would be a pity if she did cut it. He wrapped both arms protectively around her. "Better?"

She nodded, murmuring. "Much. Thanks."

It was only a few minutes before he heard the deep, slow breathing of sleep. When he was sure she was asleep, he looked down at her and whispered, "I think…I think I might really want to kiss you right now." He didn't kiss her. He closed his eyes and let sleep claim him, his arms tightly around the redhead, protecting her from whatever demons of the night might prey on her if she was alone.


	21. Out of Hand

**Chapter 21: Out of Hand**

**

* * *

**Neville woke up with his cheek pressed to the couch. It took him a moment to realize where he was. There was a weight on him and he couldn't quite seem to move well. He didn't remember his bed having so many awkward springs in it. As his mind cleared from its post-sleep haze, he realized that of course he was in the common room and not his bed at all. Hermione was off to one side of the room, eating breakfast at the table. He wasn't awake enough to discern the look she was giving him, but she certainly was giving him some type of look. When Hermione gave you a _look,_ you could feel it, and it didn't tend to be comfortable. He saw that Ginny was still lying between his legs, curled up in a ball. The side of her face was pressed against his chest, and she continued to sleep. His arms were wrapped around her, a barrier against whatever forces of evil might approach.

Hermione pursed her lips one last time and looked away from the couch. Neville couldn't help thinking that the expression reminded him of McGonagall. He closed his eyes as if he were going back to sleep and waited for Ginny to wake up. She'd been so exhausted last night that _he _wasn't going to wake her now. She would wake up naturally when she'd had enough sleep. He certainly didn't have anywhere pressing to go. Neville may or may not have drifted off again himself.

"Nice McGonagall face, Hermione," Harry said, coming down the stairs.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you your face can get stuck that way?" Ron added, sitting down to stuff his face. He caught sight of Ginny and Neville on the couch. He frowned, trying to formulate the appropriate response. He settled for calling his sister's name. "Ginny!"

She groaned, rolling over, facing towards the couch back, away from her brother's voice.

Neville nudged her, opening his eyes. "The price of sleeping in the common room is that nobody let's you sleep in."

She sat up groggily, looking at Neville's arms around her waist with an unreadable expression. Embarrassed, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "What time is it?" asked Ginny, stretching her arms.

"Nearly nine," Hermione answered from across the room.

Neville and Ginny went up to their respective rooms to change, and could hear Ron's voice as he went up the stairs. "Did you see him? He had his arms around my sister!" Neville was glad to get away for a few minutes—maybe by the time he got back to the common room, he wouldn't be blushing anymore.

* * *

During breakfast, Ginny had agreed to play Quidditch with Ron and Harry. Neville found that he was missing her. He wondered if she was missing him and tried to cut himself off from that train of thought. He felt rather stupid over it. It was only a few hours and it wasn't as if he had any sort of claim to her. He tried to point out to himself that he'd probably hardly see her once school stared and her friends were back—he should get used to it. Unfortunately, that did _not_ make him feel any better.

He spent the remainder of his morning in the greenhouse, working up a sweat in the amplified heat of a greenhouse in summer. He still had one more space for a plant and had to decide which would benefit the most from the extra heat. For the time being, he went back to Gryffindor Tower for a shower. He showered, changed, and threw the purple plant, books, and notes in his bag, slinging it on his back. He had a vague notion to go watch the others play Quidditch while he did his reading, though he was starting to get hungry. Maybe Ginny knew where the kitchen was?

He ran into Hermione just outside the portrait hole. "I was just coming to look for you. Dobby's bringing lunch out to the pitch. It's half past one and they're still at it." She sounded exasperated, and shaking her head at the idea of them playing Quidditch all day; she started down the corridor, clearly expecting him to follow, which he did. "I was in the restricted section this morning. I haven't had a lot of luck with trying to find that plant. The plant exists and someone has to know about it; we'll find it." She had a determined set to her mouth, a very Hermione-ish resolve etched onto her face.

Neville tried to sound casual, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, fiddling with the straps. "You think Ron is still mad? About this morning I mean?"

Hermione paused, looking at him. She didn't answer at first. She finally sighed. "You know Ron. He's got a temper. But I think he should be alright now. Maybe the sun has fried his brains enough that he's forgotten about it." They continued walking in silence for a while. "What was that about this morning anyway, Neville? The two of you looked fairly cozy on that couch…"

He shrugged, trying to fight down a blush. It was a wonder his face had left any spare blood for his arms and legs to keep him moving. "I don't know what it was. She said that she hated sleeping in empty rooms…she didn't want to go up to hers last night. She hadn't really slept the night before…asked me to stay…" The words kind of fell from his mouth haphazardly. "Was it a bad idea?" He hoped it wasn't…he had enjoyed it. "She said she'd ask you today if it was alright if she stayed in your room with you tonight."

Hermione's feet slowed, but she kept moving. "Neville, she could have stayed last night without asking. I think she just wanted to stay with you."

Neville's face upgraded itself from pink to red as he wondered how she'd have responded if he kissed her last night. "I'd stay with her again if she asked, even though the couch isn't that comfortable."

She looked thoughtful. "I'd proceed with caution if I were you, Neville. It's a fine line between friendship and romance, and if you walk the edge of the knife and fall off, it's hard to get back up again or make it to the other side." It was a knife edge she'd been walking long enough to know.

He had to wonder how sound Hermione's advice was. She was still walking the knife's edge with Ron. Was she happier for it? Too scared to jump? Content to wonder?

They made it outside and found their way down to the pitch. Dobby was already there, spreading out a blanket that it seemed impossible for him to have carried, and emptying what seemed to be a never ending basket of food. There was fried chicken, bread, salad, a pitcher of ice tea, and plates for all. Ron and Harry were still making lazy circles in the sky, though Ginny had broken away when she saw Neville and Hermione approaching. She hollered up at Ron and Harry to head towards the ground.

Ginny set her broom down in the grass, brushing stray hair behind her ears with an annoyed attitude. Passing by her to take a seat, he whispered, "We can always shave your head after Ron goes to sleep. Your mother won't see you for months…some of it will have grown back by then."

She couldn't help laughing, settling into her spot on the blanket.

Neville was pleased, but sat with Hermione between him and Ginny, just in case Ron was still in a foul mood. Ron settled on Ginny's other side, with Harry between Ron and Neville.

Dobby looked at the spread and the wizards and witches around it. "Will there be anything else? Harry Potter, sir? Miss Wheezy? Wheezy? Miss Hermione? Neville, sir?"

Ron muttered to Harry, "How come I'm Wheezy and he's 'Neville, sir'?"

Harry snickered, but made no comment. "I think we're good here, Dobby, Thanks. We'll be in for dinner later."

"Always pleased to please, Harry Potter, sir, and friends." Dobby bowed, and vanished with a crack of air.

"How did your practicing go?" asked Neville, looking at Ron and Harry.

Harry shook his head, settling his hair down. "Didn't get a lot done, but it feels so good to be up in the air again. Nothing like it. Probably go over the playbooks tonight when it's too dark to stay out."

Hermione's eyes rolled as she put modest portions of everything on her plate. "You're still going to stay out here?"

"Got to enjoy it while we can," Harry reasoned.

Ron snickered. "We'll get McGonagall and Snape to assign you some homework to keep you occupied, Hermione. How's that?"

Hermione's head jerked a little, startled. "I'd forgotten. A letter came from Mrs. Weasley. We still need our new books and things from Diagon Alley."

"Are they going to let us go get them ourselves?" asked Harry, doubtful. He was buttering a roll, one eyebrow raised.

Hermione gave a rather ambiguous shrug. "I don't think so, but she said she'd check with Dumbledore and see. I can't imagine the sort of security they'd want on us to let the six of us wander around Diagon Alley. If it weren't that we were at Hogwarts right now, I feel like they wouldn't let us out to see the sun."

Harry stared up at the sky as though savoring it, his mind a hundred miles away at #12 Grimmauld Place.

She could see that she'd said the wrong thing and as Hermione was about to try to back pedal herself out of the uncomfortable feeling, Ginny stepped in. "Nobody wants to arrest us and I doubt they'd kill us in broad daylight. Anyway, I'm going to enjoy having the run of this place while we can before everybody else comes back to school and mucks it up."

Ron wrinkled her long nose. "And before the teachers muck it up with homework."

Ginny raised her glass of tea and clinked it with her brother's in agreement.

"What did the two of you do with your ever dwindling summer days?" asked Harry.

"Greenhouse."

"Restricted section research. Rare opportunity to have the library without Madam Pince standing guard," Hermione pointed out. "Never know when you might find something useful."

Neville was quiet for most of the meal. His mind was on the flower in his bag. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd brought it outside. It was still holding up under the stasis spell in the container. He probably ought to have checked in the restricted section himself. Who knew how much time they had until Madam Pince was back from vacation? Why couldn't he seem to get anything right? What was he going to do if they couldn't find what they wanted in the Hogwarts library? All the time he wasted here, Lestrange might be planning something for his uncle and it'd be his fault for not proving her guilty fast enough. He felt Hermione nudge him, and looked up. Ginny was looking at him. She might have noticed his aloofness and been trying to catch his eye.

"Harry, can I trade places with you? The sun is roasting me."

He blinked, a little surprised, not sure his side of the blanket was any less sunny, and traded places with Ginny so that she was between her brother and Neville. When the others were talking again, she asked quietly. "You okay?"

Neville kept his face on his plate, nodding. "Yeah. Just thinking about…things."

She nudged his shoulder. "Stop thinking so hard. You're going to give me a headache just watching you think. We'll get her."

Her last three words made him look up, catching her gaze head on. "Am I that obvious?" he mumbled.

She shook her head, pushing her loose strands of hair out of her face again. "Only to me."

"Still got that razor…"

Ginny glared at the rebellious strands of auburn that refused to cooperate with the rest of the bunch. "I may yet take you up on that."

As the meal drew to a close, Hermione decided she'd go check on Hagrid and see if he was back at Hogwarts yet, and Harry and Ron followed her, broomsticks in hand. Ginny and Neville cleared up the picnic, managing to get the plates and even the large blanket back into the enchanted basket. Neville held it in one hand as they headed towards the castle together. His other hand kept straying towards the bag on his back, where he knew the purple flower was.

Neville was now decidedly nervous since they were close together and alone. Ginny was walking beside him, her broom over one shoulder.

"Thanks for staying out there with me last night," Ginny said at random, when they were nearly back at the castle entrance.

"Pardon? Oh, anytime." He laughed a little. "Not that there was a lot of choice, once you curled up there." He tried to hide his blush by turning to fiddle with the straps on his bag again. Sometimes the books seemed heavier than others.

She shook her head as they passed through the large doors. "You had a choice. I'd have let you get up if you didn't want to stay. All you had to do was say something."

He shrugged, fighting the blood rising to his face. "I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to go anywhere. I mean, I wanted to be right where I was." His words weren't coming out properly at all. He fell silent, trying to think about what he wanted to say and to make his words come out right.

"I shall be plagued ceaselessly plagued by Gryffindors," sneered a voice. Snape was standing in front of them, looking slightly rumpled, as though he'd been short of sleep. If things were continuing to get more dangerous he probably was short of sleep. Neville wondered if Snape was here with or against his will?

"Professor," Ginny acknowledged, curtly.

"Miss Weasley. Longbottom. What are you doing wandering around the castle on such a fine day?" He looked up at the ceiling as if to confirm weather he had not yet experienced firsthand.

Neville steeled himself, his hand no longer fiddling with the strap of his bag, but with the clasp. "I was looking for you."

Snape sounded bored. "I can hardly imagine that, Longbottom. You generally go out of your way to avoid me."

Neville set down the picnic basket slowly. He pulled his bag around, reaching for the vial with the purple flower. His hands were shaking. "But you have something I want, Professor. Information. I need to know about this plant." He took it out, holding the container in one hand, his other hand reaching to his left. Ginny's hand found it and squeezed it.

Snape's long, pale fingers reached out, taking the vial from him. Neville wasn't sure if he felt it go as a loss, or as the relief of a heavy burden. Snape turned the vial around, studying it in the light. "See me this evening. Seven o'clock. Are my books in your bag?"

Neville nodded, just once. "A-and my notes…Professor."

The vial clasped in one hand, Snape reached the other hand.

Slowly, Neville lifted the strap over his neck and shoulder, handing the bag to Snape uncertainly. The notes, the flower…these were his proof that Gran hadn't just died. How the bloody hell was he handing them over to the world's scariest professor? Ginny squeezed his hand again; she thought he was doing the right thing.

"This plant is not common, and it is not unknown to me. I will see you at seven, Longbottom, in my office. Do not be late." Snape turned heel and strode away, leaving Neville feeling utterly worn out.

He sunk down to the floor slowly, his head dropping between his knees, his hands on the floor beside him. "What did I just do? Snape's got the plant now, and my notes, and if he's not on Dumbledore's side, he could be getting rid of the only evidence we've got against Lestrange!" he whispered, horrified.

Ginny put her arms around him, her broomstick clattering to the floor. "He's on Dumbledore's side. He has to be or Bill wouldn't have sent us there the other night." She gritted her teeth with grim determination and let go of him, standing up. She reached out a hand to him. "Come on. I don't know why he wanted you to wait five hours. Let's go to his office now. He already said he knows what the plant is. Why wait?"

Neville nodded miserably. Why couldn't he have run into any professor but Snape? It had to be Snape. Fate must really, really hate him. He took the hand Ginny offered and clambered to his feet, brushing off his pants. He stared off in the direction Snape had taken, towards the dungeons. He shook himself. Whatever Snape knew, he ought to tell him _now_ not in five hours. He set the picnic basket on the nearest table. He tried to sound sure of himself. "Let's go."

Ginny picked up her broom, intent on using it as a sword or a Quidditch bat on Snape if need be. Side by side, they walked across the Great Hall, to seek out Snape in his office. Neville tried to walk quietly. He felt as if all of his footfalls were too loud in the empty hallways on the stone floors.

He didn't say anything. How could it have been more than two weeks now since Gran had died? He hadn't talked to Uncle Algie in all this time. He should have. Should have said something to him, warned him. His fist clenched, nails digging into his palm. Why had he been so stupid? Why hadn't he told someone who could protect him? If something happened to Uncle Algie…it'd be his fault. He started moving a little more quickly. They reached Snape's classroom first and checked it; he wasn't there, though all the usual smell of ingredients and boiled over potions certainly was—the smell of students who didn't know what they were doing. It was a smell Neville was familiar with in this room. "Better try the office," he muttered, and they continued down the hall, hardly even stopping outside the door before Neville started pounding on it with more strength than he felt. He wasn't sure what words were going to fall out of his mouth when the door opened. He just hoped they were the right ones.

The door didn't open.

Frustrated, Ginny tried the handle. "Locked," she growled. "Professor Snape!" She banged on the door with her fist. They continued pounding on his door for about ten minutes, until their hands ached…and after that, they beat it a few times more in frustration. Ginny attempted a kick, but only received a sore foot in return.

Neville slumped against the door. "Why didn't I listen to you, Ginny? Why didn't I go to Dumbledore? Or McGonagall? Who knows where Snape's run off to?"

Ginny shrugged the questions away, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Snape might be in there with a silencing charm on the door. Or he might be in there and be fantastic at ignoring us. We'll wait here. Either we'll get him coming out, or we'll get him going in."

Neville wasn't sure how long they spent waiting outside Snape's door, sitting in a tangibly companionable silence, leaning against each other as much as the door. When he thought too much, his nails dug into his palm. He tried not to think, letting his mind drift absently over the sound of his own breathing, of Ginny's breathing. If there'd been so much as a sliver of sunlight, he would have let his mind amble across the feeling sun on his skin. He wondered how the Slytherins could live in dormitories and a common room with no windows. Common knowledge said that they were somewhere underground.

Neville gave himself a mental pep talk before letting his mouth open. "Let's go. We'll be back at seven when Snape wants. Let's find McGonagall first thing. If Snape's not on our side…Uncle Algie doesn't know he's in danger." His nails were digging into his palm again. Ginny stopped leaning on him and got up, her lips pressed together. She put her broomstick over her shoulder again. Neville followed, trying to rub the feeling back into his fingers. They'd find McGonagall and take care of everything.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Admittedly, this is not the world's most adventurous chapter. But it was a chapter that needed to be posted and this was the most logical stopping spot I could see. I hope to update again soon.


	22. Confrontation

**Author's Note:** So sorry! I didn't realize I'd already finished writing this chapter or it would have been up ages ago. I've already made good progress into the next chapter, so we'll see how it goes. I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be yet, but they've got less than 2 weeks until everyone else comes back to Hogwarts, and everyone else coming back seems like a reasonable ending point, though I may write more G/N stories. At any rate, for now, the story must go on!

* * *

**Chapter 22: Confrontation**

* * *

Neville and Ginny were now on their way back from the Owlery. They had visited McGonagall's office to no avail and gone to the Owlery as an alternative, using one of the school owls to send a warning to Neville's great-uncle. The first letter had been rather rambling and confused, so they shredded it and tried again, just telling him that Gran was murdered and he needed to go somewhere safe. It seemed to be the best they could do for now. In the meanwhile, all they could do was to kill time until seven and go back to Snape then to see what he had to say.

A sharp voice broke through the sound of their footsteps. "Mister Longbottom. Miss Weasley. Might I have a word?" Despite the phrasing, the woman's tone made it clear that this was not a question or a request.

They turned around and were surprised to find McGonagall behind them. She was giving the pair of them one of her sterner looks. "Erm, yes, Professor?" She gave them a look that brooked no argument and clearly indicated they were to come with her to her office immediately. They followed her in silence, but as they reached the door, Neville said, "We were looking for you."

She seated herself behind the desk, looking down at them; her mouth was pulled into that thin line that always meant trouble. It wasn't an expression Neville was accustomed to seeing directed at himself. He'd seen it directed at plenty of other people, but he generally tried not to cause problems… McGonagall got straight to the point, her hands folded in front of her on the top of her desk. "I must admit, I am rather disappointed that you took so long in bringing your suspicions to the proper avenues for action. Just what were you going to do with the plant and your allegations by yourselves? Did you plan to knock on doors until the responsible party decided to own up?"

Neville frowned. He hadn't been sure where the conversation was going, but he hadn't quite expected this. "I don't know, Professor. I…I thought we had to have proof or no one would have believed—"

Her nostrils gave a fierce flare. "Molly Weasley believed you without question, Mr. Longbottom. Unfortunately no one else was able to do more for you since we were unaware that you were in possession of the key piece of evidence. In the meantime, what arrangements could be made were made. You were protected at the Weasleys until you took it into your head to stray from the property. Your great-uncle was moved to a safe house shortly after the funeral." Her voice was brisk, unwavering, her face composed. "Since we do not precisely know why your grandmother was targeted, we must cover all possibilities. If it was a family matter, we have done our best for yourself and your uncle. Another possibility is that it may have to do with your involvement at the Ministry of Magic last spring. Operating on this conjecture, people were dispatched to the Lovegood home to provide safety measures two weeks ago. Now, the attack on yourself and Miss Weasley has prompted us to take further actions. Mr. Lovegood may or may not be removed to safer housing, pending on his decision in the matter, and Miss Lovegood will be brought here shortly."

Neville slumped a little, feeling somewhat relieved. He hadn't even thought about the possibility that Luna and her dad being targets. He was glad someone had thought of it. Uncle Algie was going to be okay. The Weasleys shouldn't be at risk now that Harry and he were out of the house. Right? Mrs. Weasley was too wonderful for Neville to imagine anyone attacking her…He was shaking a little. As much as he couldn't imagine anyone wanting to attack Mrs. Weasley, he rather had the impression she could give as good as she got. He blurted out, "What about my parents?" Wait…Mrs. Weasley knew that he thought Gran's death was a murder? He had never said anything to her…had he? He looked at Ginny, wondering if she had told her mother, but he couldn't quite believe it. She wouldn't have broken his trust. She couldn't have.

Ginny's mouth was set as though she was gritting her teeth and bearing the lecture with the best patience she could.

McGonagall flicked a glance at Ginny as though checking with Neville to see if it was okay to discuss their condition in front of her. "Your parents are fine, Mr. Longbottom. Protective charms around them have been strengthened. There has been no suspicious activity—you were their last visitor."

Neville nodded, staring at his shoes.

McGonagall's voice was sharp, bringing him back to attention. "Mr. Longbottom, is there anything else you care to tell me concerning your grandmother's death? Anything that is not in the notes Professor Snape has given me? I might also point out that he believed you without question as well."

He shook his head. "I don't think so…I don't remember what's in the notes. Mostly those were trying to figure out what the plant was. I've never come across it before."

McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She was shaking a little herself, only just barely under control. "If you've never seen it, why did you tell Molly Weasley it was responsible for your grandmother's death?"

Neville frowned slightly, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "Well, I didn't notice it at first, you know, when everything was happening. And then when I went back…I saw this vase. Gran never kept vases of flowers in her room, and I didn't recognize that vase at all. It was horrible. Gran would have never bought it. The flower was in it, and the bottom of it had the initial B.L. Lestrange is the only B.L. I know and she's already gone after my family once…but I couldn't prove it, you see. I thought I had to be able to prove it…even if I couldn't prove she did it, I could at least find out if the plant was poisonous before I bothered anybody with it…" He trailed off, aware that he was rambling. Ginny grabbed his hand, squeezing it firmly, and he shut his mouth, looking at her gratefully. He turned back to McGonagall and asked incredulously, "_I _told Mrs. Weasley?"

McGonagall looked at him rather as though she was trying to see through him. "Yes. Molly Weasley sent several letters to Headmaster Dumbledore over the past two weeks. The first was dated to the night of your arrival I gather, the second was dated August 2."

Ginny pushed her hair back behind her ears, the gears in her mind turning, trying to figure out what happened August first or second. "The vase. The night after your birthday we went back the house and that's when we found the vase and the flower and you told Mum when we got home."

Neville blushed, feeling stupid. He dropped his gaze to his feet again. All this time Ginny and Hermione were badgering him to send a letter to Dumbledore, and he'd been obstinately refusing, and it turned out Dumbledore knew everything already. He had told Mrs. Weasley himself. All this time he'd been trying to keep things under wraps to deal with them himself and there was no point. He'd spilled the beans two weeks ago. What had he been trying to hide anyway? McGonagall was right. Even if he had figured out which flower it was, proved it was poisonous—he couldn't prove that the vase belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange or that she had put it in the house. He couldn't go after her himself, could he? She'd tear him to pieces. What good was he? What good had he done? Keeping it all locked away had just given Lestrange a head-start on her pursuers. He had one overwhelming thought: I screwed up.

Ginny reached over, squeezing his hand.

"It is nearly five o'clock. Mr. Longbottom, you are due to meet Professor Snape in approximately two hours. I imagine you'll want to eat before then. You are dismissed." The look in her eyes clearly said that it was time to go. He stood, still holding Ginny's hand and she started to rise. "Not yet, Miss Weasley. You will remain here. There are still a number of words I wish to have with you." Another look from her had Neville out the door after squeezing Ginny's hand one more time.

He didn't go far. He stood outside of McGonagall's office, figuring it wouldn't be long before Ginny came out. After he'd been standing there more than half an hour and was about ready to sit down to wait, the door opened. Ginny was standing in front of McGonagall, looking a little petulant.

McGonagall caught sight of him almost at once, surprise at seeing him still there registered briefly on her face. "Mr. Longbottom, Gryffindor Tower is only so big—I assure you, you will see Miss Weasley later. Return at once and do not be late for your meeting with Professor Snape."

Neville shuffled off towards Gryffindor Tower without much of an appetite. What could McGonagall have to say to Ginny for so long? It seemed as though his tryting to take care of things himself had caused such a mess. Harry always made it look so easy. Not that Neville wanted to be in his shoes either, he just wished he didn't feel like he had managed to make such a mess of things. He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone tapped him on the shoulder not ten minutes later.

It was Ginny. "Hey. I thought I'd never get away." She came up next to him and started walking towards Gryffindor Tower.

Neville fell into step beside her. "What did McGonagall want?"

Ginny shrugged, but her face might have been a little pink—Neville couldn't be sure in the light of the corridor. "Wanted to know first off why I didn't go to Dumbledore or her about all this and I told her it wasn't my story to tell. She didn't much seem to like that. She also tried to grill me to see if there was anything you'd left out of your narrative but I couldn't really think of anything except to say that you told Snape about the plant and your grandmother and everything yesterday and apparently he hadn't said anything to McGonagall until today, so why should it be strange that we didn't say anything?" She tilted her head. "She also spent a while telling me that for your own good I should make sure you stayed inside the grounds, and that it would 'be wise' to keep myself here as well." She grinned a little. "McGonagall didn't take it well when I said I couldn't control what you did or didn't do, or Harry, Hermione, and Ron for that matter. I think she would have tried to give me detention if she could have. It's got to be some sort of record to get on her bad side in _August_; I don't think Fred or George ever managed that."

He nodded. "She seemed like she was in a bad mood tonight. It makes me wonder just what Snape said to her about everything."

Ginny frowned. "What surprises me is that Snape brought the notes and things to McGonagall and not Dumbledore. I guess Dumbledore's not back yet from…whatever he's doing."

Neville bit his bottom lip a little worriedly. "You think it's bad?"

"Dumbledore should be able to take care of himself, but even he's got limits on what he can do. I just don't know." She slowed down a little and he slowed to keep pace with her. "She's worried about something."

Neville frowned. "Are you sure? I couldn't tell if she was scared or angry. I don't like the thought of anything bad enough to scare McGonagall. Somehow, her being angry would be a lot more comforting."

She let out a puff of air between her lips. "Me either." The two of them ambled on in silence. "Luna is going to be staying in my dorm until school starts. McGonagall wanted to let me know. It doesn't make sense to have five of us in Gryffindor Tower and her alone in Ravenclaw Tower. She'll be arriving in a while."

Neville forced his mouth into a sort of half smile. It was already starting—her friends were coming back and she'd see him less and less. He told himself he was going to have to get used to it. "I guess you don't need anybody to keep you company in the common room tonight then."

Ginny stopped, fidgeting a little as she shrugged and smiled up at him. "Oh, you never know. I might sleepwalk. Or Luna could be a horrific snorer."

His breath caught in his throat a little but he tried to laugh it off. "Well, the way your brother snores I might end up down in the common room to get away from the noise." He put his hands in his pockets, not sure what to do with them.

She smiled again, tucking her hair behind her ear—that one piece always refused to stay where it belonged. "Mum always said that warm arms around you were better for a good night's sleep than a dreamless sleep draught. Personally I think she's right." She looked a little wistful, thinking about something years before. "When I was younger and I'd have nightmares she always stayed with me until I fell asleep."

Neville started to wonder if maybe he was being cast back into the friend/brother category after all. "We ought to get back to the tower…"

They went the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower quietly—not that they had far to go. None of the others were there yet. Dobby was just setting out the food. "Miss Wheezy! Mister Neville sir!" he squeaked, beaming at them. "Dobby has fetched dinner, but where is Harry Potter? And Wheezy?"

"Down at Hagrid's. I'm sure they'll be back soon. Nobody who values their teeth actually eats down at Hagrid's," Ginny told Dobby. Dobby finished with the food and settings and bowed low, disappearing with a crack.

Neville and Ginny sat at the table. He pushed food around on his plate. "I still don't understand it. I told Snape that Lestrange killed Gran and he didn't bat an eye. Do you think he _knew_?"

Ginny shook her head, and looked straight at him. "I don't know."

Neville put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "I told him. And he brought me the books. And he didn't say anything to McGonagall. Or I guess Dumbledore either. I don't get it. Why?" A dinner roll hit him on the side of the head and he looked up. Ginny was still staring at him.

"I don't know," she repeated. "You're going to have to ask him tonight. That was the other thing McGonagall wanted to tell me. She said this was something you should do yourself."

"You don't think Snape used the Imperius Curse on her, do you?"

"Professor McGonagall seems quite normal to me," offered a new voice.

Ginny looked up and Neville turned around in his seat. Luna Lovegood stood framed in the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Neville fumbled for words, but McGonagall brusquely brushed him aside. "Now is not the time, Mr. Longbottom. Please pick up that dinner roll by your feet. Even though classes are not yet in session, I remind you that this is _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_, and that you are in _Gryffindor Tower_. This is common space; to treat it as a dustbin would be to disrespect yourself, your housemates, and Godric Gryffindor."

"Yes, Professor," mumbled Neville, sliding off the chair in his attempt to reach the dinner roll, without getting up. He landed with a rather solid thud. Ginny was immediately around the table, an arm extended to help him up.

She looked towards McGonagall and Luna as she helped Neville to his feet. "Hey, Luna. Hi, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall's nostrils flared. "I shall leave Miss Lovegood in your capable hands. For the record, Mr. Longbottom, I am not under the Imperius Curse. It was Professor Snape's request that you alone see him tonight. If Miss Weasley chooses to accompany you, I expect Professor Snape will turn her aside at the door."

"I'll take that risk," Ginny answered resolutely.

McGonagall's eyes slid to the ceiling and she gave Ginny one of her _looks_. "On your head be it then. Help Miss Lovegood settle in. I'm going to find your remaining housemates and remind them that they should exercise what caution they possess." As McGonagall left, Neville released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and dropped the dinner roll on the table, and his rear back in his seat.

"Have a seat, Luna. Are you hungry?" Ginny groaned. "I sound like my mum. She's barely in the door and I'm trying to feed her before she's even said she's hungry. Somebody Spell-o-Tape my mouth."

Luna seemed unperturbed and towed her trunk to the table, taking an empty seat. "I can't imagine that would be particularly comfortable. I could try a muting charm if you'd like," she offered.

"Not necessary, Luna, thanks. If Snape objects to my presence, he's going to have to forcibly evict me from his office," Ginny declared.

Luna spooned green beans onto her plate. "And if Neville objects?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

"He doesn't." She paused, frowning, as if the thought of Neville objecting hadn't occurred to her. She turned to him. "Do you?"

Neville turned his head from side to side. "No….you might catch something I miss. Two heads are better than one and all that, right?"

She reached out and squeezed his hand, sparing a little of her attention for small-talk to change the subject. "Is Gryffindor Tower a lot like Ravenclaw, Luna?"

She looked around the room. "More shelves in Ravenclaw—filled with the contributions of Ravenclaws past."

The portrait hole opened again and Harry, Ron, and Hermione came into the common room and the boys dropped onto one couch with absent-minded greetings, and Hermione took a chair at the table. "Well, we encountered Professor McGonagall and the expression on her face could curdled new milk," Hermione said. "Anybody have an explanation?" She looked at Ginny as the most likely culprit.

Ginny just shrugged. "She's either angry or scared. The jury's still out."

Hermione turned to Neville, apparently unsatisfied with Ginny's response. "Well?"

"Well, what?" He glanced at Ron's hair, sticking up from the couch. Ginny was still holding his hand.

"What has McGonagall so worked up?" Hermione asked again, insistently.

Neville looked down at his plate. "We're not sure. Look, I'll let you know when we've got things figured out. She was rattled when we ran into her earlier and she's still rattled now. We've got to go."

Harry tilted his head over the couch to look at them. "Where are you going?"

Ginny nodded, standing up with him. "We've got a meeting with Snape. We'll see you all later. Luna, our room's easy to find—the plaque outside the door says, fifth years. The bed by the window is mine—all the others are up for grabs."

Hermione watched Neville and Ginny walk away and turned on Luna. "What was all that about?"

Luna blinked and smiled. "No idea. I suspect they didn't want to talk to you right now."


	23. Questions and Answers

**Chapter 23: Questions and Answers**

**Author's Note:** It's been a long time, and I'm sorry. I'm trying to get the pacing right on all this and figure out what exactly the endpoint for the story is. The threads are coming together. Happy Thanksgiving. I'm tremendously thankful for my family and friends—I'm also thankful that I got an education that allows me to read and write, that I have a job that lets me pay the internet bill every month.

PS: Please call/email/petition your Senators and Congressmen about SOPA and PIPA or the legislation would make sites like this a thing of the past.

* * *

They rounded the last corner before Snape's office. Neville took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It took a minute for the door to open, but when it did, Snape was standing there, looming over Neville and Ginny is his dark robes. "Longbottom, don't just stand there gawking. Come in. Weasley, you were not invited." He looked down at her as though bored.

She followed Neville inside all the same.

Snape stood leaning against his desk, looking down at Neville. Neville was shaking a little, but from what Ginny could see of his face, he wasn't shaking with fear…it was anger. The words were bubbling below the surface, waiting. Before Snape could let another snarky comment spill from his mouth, Neville asked, "Why didn't you answer the door? Why make us wait when you probably had the answer the moment I gave you the flower?" His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles went white.

Snape's eyes looked at him lazily, perhaps with the barest hint of surprise. "Longbottom, as usual, you don't know half of what you think you do. I am not about to explain myself to the likes of you. You came seeking my help; do not dare to question my methods. Shut that excuse for a mouth."

Neville looked at him and gritted his teeth. He wasn't backing down.

"Weasley, out," Snape spat.

Ginny looked at Neville, her feet planted securely on the ground. He nodded slightly. Glaring daggers at the pair of them, Ginny removed herself from the room. Wandlessly, Snape shut the door.

"That plant and whoever sent it killed my grandmother, _Professor_, I need to know what I can do about it."

Snape sneered at him. "Do? Do?" He walked around the desk. "What do you think you can do about it? I know who you suspect. Do you think you'll have an easier time catching Bellatrix than the Ministry has done? Than others have done? Do you think she's likely to go easy on you because you're a _child_?"

Neville's nails dug into his palms. "I'm not a child. I can find her, because she'd look for me. I think she's already planning on it."

Snape looked at him coldly. "What would you do if you found her? Tell her how much you miss your mummy and daddy? How cruel she was to take your grandmother away from you? How you won't go down without a fight? She might let you stutter a few words—to prolong her amusement—before she performed the Cruciatus curse on you. That would be the least of what she'd do." From behind the desk, Snape pulled out Neville's book bag. The battered books were there, as well as Neville's notes. From a pocket of his robes he pulled out a container with the flower in it. It wasn't the container Neville had used; it was actually one specifically designed to preserve poisonous plant samples. All the same, Neville recognized it as his plant, one of the petals slightly crumpled.

Snape opened a book and pushed it forward, his long and pale finger marking the entry Neville had sought. "Read."

"Indigo Death, as the plant is called, grows seldom in the wild. It needs both high heat and extreme cold to flourish; one of the few regions where it has been known to grow wild is the Gobi desert. It can only grow in other regions if carefully tended and monitored with spells to ensure the right mix of heat and cold. The potency of the flower's paralytic toxin is greatly increased if it is grown in soil steeped in blood." His voice faltered. "The plant releases its toxins from the petals, which will unfurl fully only after the stem has been cut from the base of the plant. This—"

"Bellatrix Lestrange can harbor hatred for years, nursing it…she'll break herself against walls….but she would not take the time herself to raise a plant that would require this much effort. Someone else grew it—possibly by arrangement. The plant does have other properties." He eyed Neville. "She did not grow this plant."

Neville bit his lip until it nearly bled, trying not to break eye contact with Snape. It was one of the hardest things he'd tried. "The flowers were found in a horrible vase I've never seen before…covered in pictures of people being tortured. The initials B.L. were at the bottom, and she has a grudge against my family." Towards the end his eyes faltered on Snape's, but he thought of his parents, sitting in St. Mungo's because of Lestrange, and looked up at him. He was aware that even though Snape wasn't short, he didn't quite tower over him the way he did when he was eleven. He stood up straighter.

Snape was silent for a long moment, and Neville wasn't sure he was going to speak again. His voice was whisper-soft, a breath of air. "Longbottom, I cannot bring your grandmother back. I cannot find Lestrange and bring her to justice at the Ministry or anywhere else. Neither will the Headmaster. The only thing to do is to add this to the list of crimes that, one day, perhaps, she may pay for. And yet, I remind you, that many never receive the reckoning they deserve—hate may corrode your soul if you think on this too long; it will do you no good. Do not dwell on it."

Neville had no response. He wanted to argue, to say there had to be something he could do, that he'd find her, that he'd kill her, that he'd do something…

"Wouldn't you agree, Headmaster?" drawled Snape.

"Yes, Severus, I would."

Neville turned in surprise. Sure enough, Dumbledore was standing in the doorway—Neville hadn't even heard it open.

Dumbledore didn't move, but gave a tired smile. "Yes, Neville, it's hard to say what makes old men the way we are, but it is important not to let things eat away at you. It does tend to make one old before their time. If you're quite finished, Severus, I'll escort Neville back to Gryffindor Tower."

Snape pushed Neville's bag towards him. "Don't bother me again, Longbottom."

Neville shouldered the bag, confused at the sudden turn of events, but sensing that Snape was quite back to himself. "Y-yes, professor." Neville followed Dumbledore out into the corridor. He wasn't surprised to see Ginny still waiting against the wall.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Let's return to the Tower, shall we? I always find the dungeons a bit chill at this hour," Dumbledore said, smiling.

Neville and Ginny looked at one another and fell into step behind Dumbledore, not sure what to do or say. They were as far as the Great Hall when Dumbledore broke the silence as if it had never existed. "Hogwarts is always so quiet in the summer. I feel the school is at its best when it's filled with life, with the pursuit of knowledge, filled with people making mistakes, and friendship blooming. It's always a shame to see the place empty at the end of June."

Neville wasn't quite sure how to respond. He squirmed a bit. For all he loved his Gran, sometimes he didn't look forward to going home.

Ginny glanced over at Dumbledore. "It certainly isn't the same, but I don't mind it so much. There's a lot you don't notice when the halls are crowded with people and you're always running late for class or trying to finish up an essay before the teacher walks in..." She shrugged as though she didn't know where to go from there. "I mean, I haven't spent much time playing Quidditch at school before, because I wasn't on the school team. And until now, I had never spent any time outside of Herbology class in the green house. There's so much to see here, and so much you can miss, or you don't see at first…" She trailed off as they went up the stairs, looking back at the empty tables.

Dumbledore nodded jovially. "There's always more to discover. Frequently we find it by finding a new way to look at things, or by not looking."

Neville was starting to feel uncomfortable when Ginny asked, "Headmaster, did your business go well? We haven't seen you since we got here."

The Headmaster looked sidelong at her. "I've been extremely busy, Miss Weasley, and the busy-ness of life often forces us to delay us from other things we'd like to do. I am rather sorry to have been unable to greet you and explain matters when you arrived." They continued in silence for a while, interrupted only by their footsteps and Dumbledore's humming.

He accompanied them all the way to the portrait hole and bid them goodnight.

"Aren't you going to come in, sir?" Ginny asked. "I thought maybe you were going to talk about what brought us here…"

Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully. "Not tonight, Miss Weasley. Pleasant dreams to the both of you."

"And pleasant dreams yourself, Headmaster!" said the Fat Lady, indignant at being forgotten.

Neville muttered the password and in they went.

No sooner had the portrait hole shut when Ginny rolled her eyes. "What was all that about? I can't believe he walked us all the way up here without even telling us what happened at the Burrow! We haven't even heard from Mum to say that everything is okay. I mean, I'd assume they are all okay—our trunks got sent to school and all that—but it'd be nice to know what happened, what it was all about." She took a deep breath and settled herself on the sofa, looking up at him. "So, what about Snape?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting over by the windows. All of Ron's concentration was on the game of Wizard Chess he was playing against Hermione. Harry seemed to be making a half-hearted attempt at an essay due at the beginning of the semester, while Luna sat nearish to the three, sketching a picture.

Neville adjusted the bag on his shoulder and came and joined Ginny on the couch. He dropped the bag on the floor. "I don't know. It was weird. I guess the only important thing I know is that the plant was planted on purpose—it's high maintenance." His expression turned a little bitter. "And Lestrange isn't much of a gardener. She didn't do it by herself."

Ginny reached out her arm and pulled him towards her, resting his head on her shoulder, stroking his hair. "But did he deny that she was involved?"

He sighed. "He said I couldn't do anything about it either way and so I shouldn't bother about it." He felt a crick starting in his neck and his side…she was a little short for him to be laying against like this…but at the same time…he wanted to be near her like this.

She noticed the fidgeting. "Not comfortable?"

He blushed. "It's just my neck…the angle's all wrong."

They shifted, and at Ginny's insistence that it was alright, Neville rested his head in her lap while she smoothed his hair. Neville sighed. "He wouldn't say anything directly about her, but he pretty much just said we should leave her alone." They sat in silence for a few moments and Neville closed his eyes. Ginny's hand was still idly stroking his hair.

"It was weird, Dumbledore showing up like that, wasn't it?"

He nodded, sighing again. "I wonder what made him come down there just then?"

"Well, I assume McGonagall must have said something to him. He just came wandering along as if by accident and opened the door as if it were his. All he said to me was, 'Good evening, Miss Weasley' as if he weren't at all surprised to see me there." She shifted a bit, looking down at Neville's face. "I don't understand him. Nothing for days and then out of the blue…"

There was a shout from Ron as his bishop crushed Hermione's king. "Yes! And the champion remains victorious," he said smugly.

Hermione looked rather exasperated, and Harry was trying not to snicker. Hermione's eyes rolled, as she said, "Oh yes, Ron, you're the king of the world, we shall all bow to your chess prowess."

About that time, Ron caught sight of Ginny and Neville on the couch and started to frown. Luna looked over at them with a curious tilt to her head, the end of her pencil between her teeth.

Harry noted the look on his best friend's face and where he was looking. He interrupted quickly, "Ginny, what happened with Snape?"

"Not much, really, and Dumbledore wasn't any more helpful than Snape," she offered.

"You saw Dumbledore?"

Neville eased himself reluctantly off Ginny's lap, sitting up properly, aware of Ron's eyes on him, suddenly grateful the questions were being directed at Ginny instead of himself. He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse for Ginny's fingers suddenly interlacing with his. If it weren't for the look on Ron's face, he'd say better. With the amount of blood currently in Ron's ears…it was a tossup. Neville swallowed uneasily.

Ginny's eyes gave a bit of a roll. "Well, Snape was absolutely zero help. We know the name of the plant that killed Neville's grandmother—it _is_ poisonous—but he says that Lestrange could never grow something like that herself." She then went on to give most of the details Neville had told her, and an account of Dumbledore's appearance, not bothering to mention that Snape had forced her to wait outside. Neville had to hand it to her—she could certainly tell a story and capture the audience.

* * *

Neville wandered upstairs to bed while the others were still talking and took a shower, thinking about tending to his plants a little more tomorrow. It had been nice yesterday having Ginny help him; she hadn't been afraid to get her hands dirty. It had been nice being out by the lake today too. Maybe…if everyone else was going, he just might—possibly—go in the water too. Maybe. It was a lot deeper than the pond at the Burrow, and there was no giant squid at the Burrow. Maybe the greenhouse was a better bet after all. He'd like to be up early enough to see the _mureux pluma _at sunrise. Somehow he hadn't managed it the last couple weeks. He was glad that Ron hadn't approached him since this morning about the unusual position he and Ginny had woken up in on the couch. He didn't want to try and imagine the extent to which Ron might go to protect his baby sister, given his propensity for letting his wand do the talking before his brain had time to catch up with it.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped back into dorm. He heard a girl say his name and when he looked up, there was Ginny, staring quite innocently at the ceiling.

He couldn't help but laugh, though his face was red with embarrassment. "Ginny…" He just shook his head, reaching for the blanket off his bed and wrapping it around himself like a dressing gown. Neville was certain that he looked ridiculous, but he felt at least felt a little less vulnerable. "What are you doing here?"

She tossed something onto his bed. "You left your bag downstairs. Did Snape give you more books? It's heavy."

Neville blinked in surprise. "I never saw him put anything in my bag. I kind of figured he took the books back. He kept the plant. I think." Frowning, he sat down on the bed, opening the bag and looking in it. "All of Snape's books are still here. I don't get it."

"He must have thought there was something else in here to find." She moved towards the bed, sitting at the edge, taking one of the other books out. "I can close my eyes if you want to get dressed and we can start going through them," she offered.

He was suddenly aware of the towel around his waist again, and the blanket half over his legs, and he started to blush a little, though maybe not quite so badly as before. He shook his head. "I'm tired…we ought to look at this in the morning."

She nodded and looked for a moment like she was on the verge of getting up, then she turned, leaning across the bed and hugging him. "We're going to find her," she promised. "It's not over."

He breathed deep, believing her, and hugged her back.


	24. Just Another Day in Paradise

**Chapter 24: Just Another Day in Paradise**

* * *

Neville was up early the next morning, but it wasn't quite early enough. He had hoped to see his _mureux pluma_ at sunrise, but the sun was already shining in through the windows. He'd missed it again. He got dressed and wandered downstairs, curling up in one of the armchairs by the window quietly, not sure what to do with himself. It was another lovely day out. He didn't quite want to go down to the greenhouses yet without seeing the others…or at least seeing Ginny.

To his surprise, Ginny wasn't the next person to come down the stairs. Luna's voice floated towards him. There she was, padding down the stairs barefoot. "Good morning, Neville."

"Morning, Luna." He had half-forgotten about her arrival yesterday with all the goings-on with Snape occupying his mind. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. "Have…have things been okay at home?"

She moved to lean against the windowsill. "The protective spells make Daddy a little anxious. He's worried they'll keep out the exotic wildlife. We've been fine though. We're planning a trip for the Christmas holidays. He'll be alright."

There was a silence.

She looked out the window. "I like the view from this tower."

Neville looked out of it, down at the Lake, able to see the forest in the distance. "What's the view from Ravenclaw Tower like?" he asked curiously.

"The windows in Ravenclaw mostly look out over the lawns, rather clean and orderly. The Lake looks so peaceful from here, but if you were to just fly down to it and go beneath the surface, there's so much more. It's teeming with life. I'm sure there's no one who knows everything that's in it. With all the magic in this place I'm sure there are things in the Lake that aren't anywhere else. It's old…very, very old," she said softly.

He looked at her, a little surprised by the tone.

She smiled. "There's so much in the world just waiting to be noticed. Or maybe not. Some things are quite happy to go along as they are without an interference or attention." She smiled a little more, looking a little vague. "I'm going to take a walk."

"Breakfast should be here in a while," Neville offered.

She nodded, turning and ambling out of the tower, leaving Neville alone again. She blinked to himself, wondering if she realized she wasn't wearing any shoes, but she was already gone.

Neville watched the sunlight on the water. He didn't know how long he watched it. Eventually he thought he saw a single figure walking along the water's edge.

"G'morning, Ne'lle," Ginny said, yawning in the middle of his name. She stretched her arms over her head, the hem of her shirt rising a bit.

He looked at her, shifting in the armchair, moving over a bit in case she wanted to sit with him. "Hi, Ginny."

She leaned against the window, looking down at the water. "Is that Luna down there?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She came down a little while ago. She went out without her shoes," he added.

Ginny shrugged and looked at him, a twitch of a smile on her face. "She does that sometimes. She says it's better for knowing where she is, and wherever she is knowing _who_ she is."

"What?"

Ginny chuckled, raising her hands in surrender before coming over to sit on the arm of his chair. She leaned sideways a bit, resting her head on his. "Plans for today?"

He took a deep breath and moved his arm so it rested against her back, not quite wrapping around. "Well, I figured I'd see what you might want to do. There's always more to do in the greenhouses. Or we could take another pass at those books from Snape." He could feel her nod against his head as spoke.

"We could save our reading for tonight. It's gorgeous out right now. We could go swimming," Ginny suggested.

"After the Giant Squid and Ron last time?" he asked, skeptical.

She laughed. "I'm sure it'd be fine. First things first though. Breakfast."

There was a crack of imploding air behind them as Dobby appeared, bringing with him plates of toast and scrambled eggs, as well as a kettle of tea, and other breakfast items. "Good morning, Miss Wheezy, Neville Longbottom, sir!" the house-elf said cheerfully.

Ginny slithered off the arm of the chair, and Neville followed her. They greeted Dobby cheerfully and sat down to their breakfast after they assured him they didn't need anything else. They ate quietly for a few minutes before Hermione joined them, a notebook under her arm. She greeted them a little absently, opening her notebook.

"What's that?"

She brushed her hair out of her face. "Notes. I was up late thinking about the Bellatrix Lestrange thing. Trying to look at it logically and see what we can and can't do."

Neville nodded. Trust Hermione to see things rationally.

She grimaced. "Mostly everything just seems to go in circles. But I'm looking for a way out of it."

He nodded again, feeling a bit resigned. There had to be _something_ they could do, something they were missing. He shivered, the thought of Lestrange making him hot and cold at the same time. He was angry, but all the same…Gryffindor Tower felt strangely cold, as if the walls could be looking at him, cold and unfeeling. "I think you were right about going outside, Ginny. I want to work in the greenhouse for a bit, and then maybe swimming."

Ginny grinned, and Neville thought the room felt a little sunnier. "We can put our swimsuits on under our clothes and bring towels down with us. Save us a trip back to the Tower." It sounded like a good plan, and Neville headed back up to his dormitory. Hermione watched him go and then started speaking quietly to Ginny.

Ron and Harry were both still sleeping, though Harry was wearing his glasses, as though he'd considered getting up, and hadn't quite had the energy to follow through with it. Neville found his swim trunks and put them on, still wearing a t-shirt with it, and putting on his sneakers again. He slung his towel over his shoulder. He started for the door and changed his mind, going back and taking his book bag. He could trust Hermione. If she really thought she might be able to come up with something about this situation…he ought to let her try.

She was still at the table, frowning, the end of a plastic pen in her mouth.

"I thought these might help," he offered, setting the bag at her feet. The words fell out of his mouth, stumbling only a little. "Snape gave me these books when I told him I was trying to identify the flower. Yesterday, after I met with him, I thought he'd taken them back…but they were still in the bag. I think there's still something in them I'm supposed to find…"

She looked up at him, and surprise briefly flashed over her face, and then the expression softened. "I know this has been really hard for you, Neville. Thank you for trusting me. I'll do my best to see what I can find." She opened the bag and gently took out one of the books.

"Ready to go?" Neville saw Ginny come down the stairs with a towel over her shoulder, and wearing shorts and a t-shirt over her swimsuit.

"Sure. I was just waiting for you." They left together, and Hermione watched them go, sighing and looking briefly up at the empty boys' staircase before turning her attention to the first book.

* * *

Neville was soon elbows deep in dirt, attempting to untangle the roots of a particularly wriggly plant without uprooting it. The roots were used in healing potions, but they were fragile, and plant was highly energetic. It had a tendency to tie its own roots in knots if they weren't seen to regularly and disentangled. The knots ended up choking the roots and killing the plant. Ginny had filled the watering can and was making her way around the greenhouse, trying to remember which plants needed how much water and checking with Neville when she wasn't sure. "C'mon," he murmured. "You don't like being tied up in knots. You want to grow long and straight…leave lots of room for the worms to come through and aerate the soil." He didn't notice when Ginny set down her watering can and just stood for a few minutes, watching him work, listening to him cajole the plant. She couldn't help but smile.

"Can I try?"

He looked up, surprised, almost pulling his hands out of the soil too quickly and disrupting the roots. "This one is just about done. I can show you how to do the next one." They settled on either side of the next plant over. Neville showed her how to loosen the soil around it, slowly working their hands in. "You see, the roots are really fragile, but the plant gets worked up really easily. The roots end up tying themselves in knots, and everything below the knot eventually gets choked off and dies, and the fewer living roots there are to get nutrients…and the plant needs a lot of them. Look at how thick the stem is, and how big the leaves are. It takes a lot to keep it going."

She nodded, slowly working her hands into the soil, finding the end of one of the roots and following it upward, attempting to untangle it and breaking off a small piece. She swore under her breath.

The word sounded funny somehow, coming out of her lips, her hair falling in her face and Neville couldn't help laughing. He had enjoyed gardening with his grandfather. Since then it had been so much of a source of therapy for him, of feeling good at something, good about himself, of taking care of something…he hadn't realized until recently that he could enjoy doing it with someone else again. "The other thing about untangling them is that they break off sometimes. It's okay. They're useful. By straightening them out like this, we give them a chance to grow better and make it easier to remove one of the roots as a long single piece if it's needed for a potion." He looked at her with a bit of surprise, wondering how the topic hadn't come up before, and asked, "What's your favorite subject?"

* * *

By the time they'd done enough work in the greenhouse to satisfy Neville, they were both sweating. Neville wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of dirt there. His muscles were just the right sort of sore for having worked hard for a few hours. They lay sprawled on the grass on one side of the greenhouse, where there was still a bit of shade—it wasn't noon yet. "Hermione might come out to join us. She hadn't made up her mind when we left earlier."

Neville nodded, closing his eyes. He could smell the grass and the dirt around him. Alive. Maybe Luna had a point earlier about how many people missed so much life that was just sitting there, growing and being in its own way.

Ginny propped herself on her elbows, her eyes twinkling a bit. "She had Ron on her mind this morning and was trying to decide whether or not to come out here. She's noticed that he seems to be _noticing_ her…but she's doubting herself since he doesn't exactly seem to be real eager to do anything about it. She's worried that she imagined he was noticing she was a girl. When you went upstairs to change, she was asking me about it." She laughed, laying back down in the grass, putting her hands behind her head.

Neville turned his head and arched an eyebrow. "Well, Ron did finally notice. He said as much back at the Burrow. I don't know if he's planning on doing anything about it. We don't exactly talk about those things…but after we went swimming that day, he basically asked Harry and I when Hermione…" He trailed off, embarrassed.

She chuckled. "Developed? Matured? Grew a pair of breasts?"

He felt his face get a little pink. "Basically."

She tilted her head curiously. "I'm not surprised Ron didn't notice 'til now. When did you notice?"

He groaned, rolling his eyes, not really liking this train of conversation. "Can we _not_ have this conversation?"

She rolled towards him and propped herself up on one elbow. "C'mon," she wheedled. "It'd be nice to know not all guys are as dense as my brother. I won't say a word."

He sighed, his eyes darting over at her briefly before he closed them. "You _do_ understand that I don't like her like that now, right?" he asked, hesitating.

She kept a straight face. "I completely understand."

Neville let out a breath, "Probably during third year?"

Ginny nodded. "Fair enough. Nice to see not all guys are as slow as my brother." She shook her head. "I had a thing for Harry when I was eleven. Seems bizarre that it takes so long for some people."

Neville said nothing, and just nodded.

"Seems weird now that I know him better, to think about how long I had a crush on him." She laughed. "He's like a brother to me." She shook her head, laughing again as she sat up. "Come on. Let's go swimming." She scrambled to her feet, and he followed, just remembering to grab their towels.

Down at the water's edge, Luna was sitting, dangling her feet in, not moving anything except her mouth. She was talking, though they couldn't see much of anything for her to be talking to.

"Hi, Luna." Ginny took her towel from Neville and hung it from the branch of a tree. She pulled her shirt over her head. "How are you?"

She looked up slowly, turning her head to look at them. "Good. I was just talking to the polliworschts."

Ginny nodded as though this was perfectly natural. She kicked off her shoes, and stood on one foot at a time to take off her socks. "Sounds like fun," she said cheerfully, taking off her shorts, so that she stood in just her swimsuit. "If we jump in, are we going to disturb you and the ploll—"

"—polliworschts. No, not at all. It's fine." She kicked her legs slightly in the water and the hem of her pants unrolled a bit, getting wet.

Neville stood self-consciously a moment before taking off his shoes and socks. He pulled his shirt over his head, and followed Ginny into the water, a little ways from Luna, so as not to disturb whatever she thought she was talking to.

Ginny ducked her head under the water and came up, her hair plastered back on her head, getting it all out of her face. They bobbed in the water together for a bit, laughing and talking. The sunlight glinted on Ginny's hair, and Neville couldn't help staring at her a bit while they talked. He doggy paddled a little closer to shore, wanting to be able to stand. She came closer to him, still treading water. He started to ask, "Ginny, do y—"

"No, Hermione, I _don't_ think you're being reasonable!"

"Honestly, Ron, it wouldn't take that much of your time!"

"But I've already written it once! What would be the bloody point in reading it again?"

"The point would be so that McGonagall doesn't knock off three points every time you misspell 'transfiguration' or 'modification'. All you need to do is check your work before you turn it in, and your marks would be a lot higher."

Neville looked up, wondering whether the arrival Ron and Hermione was a gift or a curse. At any rate, Ginny's attention had shifted and she was looking at them with a glance two parts amusement, one part mild irritation. Harry trailed behind them, shaking his head.

Ginny started wading towards the shore, looking at Harry with exasperation as he approached. "How long have they been at it this time?"

"At least an hour. I'm not really sure how they got started."

"This all started because _Ronald_ wanted to copy my transfiguration essay. I told him no, and then I find out he's tried copying it, and didn't even _copy_ it correctly." She shook her head, annoyed, and sat on the ground, looking at Ginny and Neville between her knees, leaning backwards on her palms. Ginny and Neville clambered to the shore and found their towels. Ginny dried off and put hers back on the branch. Neville wrapped his around his waist. He could see Ron grumbling to Harry, probably about Hermione. With a crack, Dobby appeared, bearing a picnic lunch and blanket for them all.

"I'll go get Luna," offered Hermione, seeing the girl sitting some ways off. Ron and Hermione settled themselves as far from each other as possible when they all sat down. Fortunately, Luna decided to tell them all about the polli-whatsits, saving anyone else from having to make conversation to diffuse the tension between Ron and Hermione. Hermione had decided not to talk to, look at, or even comment on Ron, even when he dripped something or other onto his shirt. Instead, she forced an interest in Luna's topic of conversation. Ron opted to grumble something to Neville and Harry from time to time about how ridiculous girls were. Harry alternated between noncommittally agreeing and telling Ron he was an ass. Neville didn't say much. From time to time, his glance strayed to Ginny. She had finished eating and stretched out on her towel in the sun.

Ron was in the midst of an irate monologue when Harry nudged Neville in the ribs and said under his breath, "You might want to put your eyes back in your skull. _Eventually_ he's going to notice."

Neville snickered softly and flicked his eyes at Ron. "Not in this century." Just as well...it might take Neville that long to get over her.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, so admittedly, this chapter was a bit fluffy. Are you going to hold it against me? Does the progression seem fairly natural to you? Please review and let me know what you think. I don't know how many more chapters there are going to be. At least a couple. My original plan had been to take this through to September first, but I don't know. What do you think? Tell me, tell me. Please? I'm having a lot of fun with this story.


	25. At Odds

**Author's Note:** This is possibly my absolute favorite chapter of this story. I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm giggling quite a bit at the moment, so I probably ought to be gagged with a sock so you can read it in peace. Though, if you have to gag me, please use a clean sock?

I'd really appreciate feedback/reviews if you enjoy this chapter as much as I'm enjoying it…

* * *

**Chapter 25:** **At Odds**

* * *

Ron had spent most of the evening sulking in his dormitory, too annoyed with the world at large to be active in it. Harry had gone up once to try and talk him down, and came back shaking his head. Ginny and Neville had spent some time trying to talk to Hermione and take her mind off Ron, but they never seemed to get terribly far with it. Her eyes would stray towards the staircase and she'd get huffy, and spend several moments stroking Crookshanks, who seemed to sense her bad mood. Ron had come down for dinner briefly, and the moment Hermione opened her mouth to say something, he'd stormed out of the portrait hole to the kitchens, loudly remarking that people who thought they knew more than everybody else ought to know enough to keep their mouths shut. After that, dinner had been subdued and awkward, broken up by Ginny assisting Hermione in making scathing comments about Ron.

Neville and Harry had looked at one another awkwardly, though hadn't made much of an attempt to come to Ron's defense. As the evening progressed, Harry drifted towards where Luna sat in the corner, drawing. He watched her for a bit, realizing she was at least as skilled with a pencil as Dean.

The hours wore on. Ron ignored them all when he came back, and stomped up the stairs. The sound of screaming came shortly thereafter. Neville sat up from where he and Ginny were leaning over Hermione's notes. Hermione herself stopped in the middle of writing a letter to her parents. Harry looked up from the series of sketches he'd been studying in Luna's book. Even she glanced up from her current work, looking mildly perplexed.

After several thuds and some exceptionally loud swearing, a ginger streak came down the stairs and settled itself guarding Hermione's feet, every hair standing on end, hissing.

"HERMIONE! I'm going to kill that bloody cat!" bellowed Ron, taking the stairs two at a time. His face was scratched, and there were gashes in his pants. He was clutching his right arm, which was bleeding. His fist held his wand so tight that the knuckles had turned white. His face looked pale. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking grim.

"You just leave Crookshanks alone!"

He glared at her from across the room. "You sent him after me, didn't you? Told it to tear strips off me!"

Hermione stood, putting her hands on her hips. "I did no such thing! Crookshanks can just tell when I'm upset. He's a smart cat. He's a good deal smarter than you are most days."

As Ron took his first steps towards her, Crookshanks used his powerful haunches to propel him forward and pounced at Ron, sinking all four sets of his claws into his chest.

"Crookshanks, no!" Hermione cried, as Ron groaned in pain and tried to shake the animal off him. She rushed towards him.

Ginny started looking around for something that would do to catch the cat in. "If only we had a bag or a basket, or a box…" she muttered.

It was all over in an instant. Crookshanks was down by Hermione's feet (after being hurled a good half dozen feet to the wall first by Ron). The cat was hissing and spitting at Ron, but not attacking anymore at least. Ron had collapsed himself into a chair, and Hermione was trying to look at the wounds. She had already rolled up the pant leg with the gashes in it and was taking a look at his arm with a worried expression. "You need to take your shirt off."

"I wouldn't _need_ to do anything if your cat hadn't tried to kill me. That _thing_ needs to be locked up." An ill-aimed kick towards the cat missed, which was probably fortunate. He gave a disgusted sigh, his breathing shallow, and started to take his shirt off and had to stop, clutching his arm. There was at least one deep gash there.

Hermione looked over at Ginny, "Give me a hand, Ginny. Luna, could you go get my wand?" Since it was still summer and they weren't supposed to use magic, they hadn't been carrying them. They were certain Snape would love the excuse to give out detention before term had even started.

Ginny and Hermione carefully raised Ron's arm as best they could without breaking the fragile layer of dried blood as they took off his shirt. The sheer number of scratches on his chest was impressive, and some of them were fairly deep. Neville and Harry hovered around the chair, not sure what to do with themselves. The cat didn't seem to show any interest in attacking _them_ at least. As Neville listened, he was almost sure the cat was purring now. Neville saw Ron's discarded wand on the floor and picked it up, slipping it into his back pocket. Someone as angry as Ron was right now shouldn't be holding one.

Luna appeared with Hermione's wand.

Hermione took it and started looking at the gashes—aside from some of them being deep, they were already getting pink and inflamed. She hesitated. "We should get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Ron looked down at his chest and rather regretted it, his facing going a little green. "You can't fix it?"

She looked up at him, torn between annoyance and guilt. She started talking rather quickly. "Well, injuries are generally straightforward enough to heal. If someone had punched you, or you'd fallen off your broom or something, it would be straightforward and easy enough for me to fix. Merlin knows I've healed you and Harry from enough minor injuries over the years, but the truth is that animal bites and scratches tend to be more complicated. They carry all sorts of germs and diseases and the cuts are prone to infection, and sometimes it's very serious. Magical animals are particularly tricky, and someone suggested to me that Crookshanks might not be all cat. He might be part kneazel, which would make him a magical animal and—"

"—and to make a long story short, we should take you to Madam Pomfrey," finished Ginny.

Hermione was wringing her hands. Ron sat up, wincing, "I'm not going anywhere with you." He took several deep breaths to steady himself. "You just keep that monster away from me. I'll go myself." He started to raise himself up, and found that putting weight on his arm to get out of the chair was a bad idea. Putting weight on his leg was also not a great idea. He gritted his teeth. "Harry?"

Harry and Neville came on either side of him, putting his arms over their shoulders. "We'll get him to the hospital wing."

After the boys had limped out, Hermione sat in the chair Ron had been in. She picked Crookshanks up and put him in her lap. "What were you thinking, huh? You could have hurt him."

Ginny snorted at the understatement.

* * *

"Well, I must say, I'm not surprised to be seeing one of you before term even starts…again." The Matron had been in her office, making a stock of Pepper-Up potion to have on-hand for the storm of runny noses and coughs the students would be having by October. It never seemed to fail. "So, what is it this time, Mr. Weasley? Another _dog_ bite?" she said severely.

Ron winced internally, remembering the dragon scratch he'd tried to convince her was from a dog. His voice came out sulky. "No, just a maniac beast that Hermione dares to call a cat."

Madam Pomfrey ordered him onto a bed and started lighting the room so she could get a proper look at his chest and arm. He had to stifle a pained groan as he lowered himself to the mattress. "These look exceptionally nasty. Did you step on the poor creature's tail?"

He looked as though he was about to become indignant at the thought of Crookshanks being a "poor creature."

Harry added hurriedly, "The cat might be half Kneazle."

The nurse nodded. "That would explain it then, wouldn't it? Kneazles are quite sensitive to the moods of their owners. They are highly loyal and protective."

"It was Hermione's cat," offered Neville.

The nurse nodded as though that explained everything. "Well, all we can do now is try to clean you up. You two can leave. I'll keep him overnight for examination. We need to clean all of the wounds thoroughly, and I'll give you something to ingest in case anything has worked its way into your skin already. They should mostly heal without scars." She drew the curtain around the bed, leaving Harry and Neville outside it.

"I guess we should go back."

They walked along silently, back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry broke the silence. "I hope the fight doesn't drag on. It's aggravating when they're not speaking to each other. Especially with the Tower this empty. If he's up to it tomorrow, maybe we'll go out to Hogsmeade. My feet are starting to itch. You want come?"

"McGonagall isn't going to just let us go."

He shook his head. "I know a couple of secret entrances to get us out of Hogwarts. If we time it right so no one is looking for us, they won't know we're gone. You, me, and Ron can go out. Hermione can stay with Ginny and Luna, and maybe they'll both cool off while they're separated."

Neville nodded. "Yeah. Maybe. That sounds good." It did make sense; Hermione probably was going to need Ginny for some sort of emotional support tomorrow.

When they got back into the tower, Luna had gone to bed for the night. Ginny and Hermione were on the couch. Crookshanks was at Hermione's feet. She sprang up. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah. He'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey is just cleaning him up and keeping him overnight."

She bit her lip and nodded. "I guess I'll go upstairs and try to sleep."

Harry watched and waited for her to disappear up the stairs. "You'll keep an eye on her tomorrow?"

"Of course I will. She'll be fine. She's feeling guilty. She shouldn't. She didn't tell Crookshanks to go after him." Ginny scratched the cat behind the ear.

"Watching them fight is exhausting. I'm going to bed." Harry left, yawning.

Neville settled onto the couch with Ginny, a little wary of Crookshanks. The cat ignored him. They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. They just sat together.

It wasn't terribly long before they heard footsteps on the stairs. Hermione came down carrying a sewing kit. Her eyes were red from crying. "I can't sleep. I'm going to do something useful." She picked up the shirt they'd taken off Ron earlier and looked at it with dismay. There were an awful lot of holes. "I think I'll go to the hospital wing and see if I can stitch up his pants. There was just the one or two big gashes on there…"

Ginny smiled at her encouragingly. "That sounds like a good idea. He'll probably need a fresh shirt for tomorrow too."

Hermione mustered a smile for the pair of them. "You're right." She went up the boys' staircase and pulled out her favorite shirt of Ron's, wishing Harry goodnight, and heading out to the hospital wing with her sewing kit, the shirt, and a book.

Ginny smiled and put her head on Neville's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her. They stayed where they were. "She might be back in a bit in tears, or she might fall asleep in the chair next to his bed. It wouldn't be the first time." They waited in the common room until they fell asleep. Hermione didn't reappear.

* * *

Neville woke up feeling stiff. His head was down at an angle, resting on Ginny's, and his arm had fallen asleep where she was pinned against his shoulder, half lying on his chest. He bent his arm at the elbow and stroked her hair a moment, though the angle was awkward for his wrist. He turned his neck to look out the window. It wasn't quite dawn. They could still go see the _mureux pluma _in the dawn light if they hurried. He'd been meaning to do that all summer, while it was at its best. He nudged Ginny before he could talk himself out of it. "Wake up, Gin."

She yawned, blinking, "Hmm?"

He took a deep breath, feeling her head move as his chest expanded. "I want to show you something. Will you come with me?"

She nodded, taking his hand, following him out of the common room and down the dim corridors. Neville looked up occasionally at the sleeping portraits, thankful that they appeared to be passing unnoticed. They made their way all the way outside. The gray light was just beginning to become tinged with pink. "We have to hurry, or we'll miss it." The pair of them darted across the lawns to where Neville's plants were outside the greenhouses. They paused in front of the _mureux pluma_ and Neville hit the soft earth with both knees, waiting. Ginny knelt beside him.

The sunlight was peeking over the castle, pink and warm. The petals of the plant began to stir, from the littlest ones as soft as a newborn chick's down, to the thicker protective pieces like shields along the outside. The colors ranged from indigo to maroon, to a pink almost light enough to be white, every shade of blue and purple and mauve imaginable. It almost seemed like no two petals were exactly the same shade. The whole plant seemed to quiver as though stirred by a breeze neither of them could feel. An almost unearthly sound seemed to rise from the plant.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat at the sight and the sound in front of her in the stillness of the morning. Plants were alive of course, but…looking at this plant at this moment, she really felt it, and thought she began to understand why Neville had fallen in love with tending gardens.

Neville was hardly aware that he was still holding Ginny's hand from the hurried walk to reach the _mureux pluma_ in time. He knew now that whatever doubts he'd had about waking her this morning, this was the right move. She shouldn't miss seeing this. He squeezed her hand, feeling the heat and light of the sun growing with each passing moment, the quiet song of the flowering plant swelling sweetly. As the last fingers of the pink dawn faded, replaced by the fresh blue light of a summer morning, the sense of peace, of rightness with the world remained behind and neither of them moved.

After a long moment, Ginny said quietly, "Thank you. That was…I'm…I'm glad I got to experience that. It was beautiful."

He just nodded, not sure what else to say, not sure anything needed saying. He looked down at their clasped hands. She'd made no move of away from him, and they continued to sit, surrounded by the smells of recently moved soil, and grass, not to mention any number of plants that breathed their sweet aromas into the air. The _mureux pluma_ still bloomed beautifully, though now it moved no more than the wind might make it. He looked at Ginny, still sitting there, as captive by beauty of the plant as he was. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not, but he thought his palm was a little sweaty. The air was clean and the grounds were quiet. He didn't want to break this moment (he'd never be able to get it back), but he finally opened his mouth.

"Would it be weird if I asked you if I could do something?"

"You can always ask. I don't have to say yes." She tilted her head. "Ask."

"I'd really, really like…" He licked his lips and the words failed to leave his mouth. Instead, leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. His face flushed. "I've been wanting to do that for days. I…I understand if you don't want to hang out with me anymore…"

Ginny laughed, and the sound was like a fresh breeze on his face. She just leaned in to kiss him again. "You've been wanting to do that for days? I wish you had done it earlier."  
Neville's face went rather pink. "You're not mad?"

She shook her head and reached for his hand again. "I'd like to give that another try…"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Was it worth the wait? I'm hoping to have more up soon...


	26. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note: **Surprise, I'm back. I'm thoroughly enjoying writing again. I'm close to finished with the next chapter of _Law and Marriage_. I'm always working on the next chapter of _Why I Quit the Cannons_. Hopefully I'll be working on _In the Closet_ again too. I've challenged myself to write 50,000 words this month, so here goes!

* * *

**Chapter 26: K-I-S-S-I-N-G**

* * *

Several kisses later, as the sun was getting a little higher in the sky, Ginny and Neville thought about finding some shade and left the _mureux pluma_ bathing quietly in the sunlight. Ginny took his hand. "Thank you for getting me up to see that. Does it bloom like that all year?"

He shook his head, brushing the hair off his forehead with his free hand. "No. It's dormant for most of the year. It sort of hibernates. All that's really left are the thickest stems and leaves, and it mutes itself to a sort of brownish purple…you wouldn't think twice about it then. But when it's hot enough out…generally just July and August in this part of the world, it starts to bloom. The leaves and petals grow in so fast you can almost see it happen. And once they do…something about the way the sun hits it at dawn with the light so pink like that…"

"Beautiful." She led the way to sit the two of them under a tree. Neither was quite ready to face Gryffindor Tower yet. "So, just how long were you planning to kiss me?" she asked mischievously.

He hoped his face wasn't going too red. "Well, I don't know if planning was the right word. I mean, I didn't know I was going to do that when I brought you out here today. I just wanted to show you the plant. I didn't think you should miss it. But, yeah, I…I have thought about kissing you this week…I just couldn't seem to work up the nerve," he admitted.

She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you did."

"So am I." They decided to go to the kitchens for breakfast.

She tickled the pear on the portrait outside and led him in to where the house-elves were busy, giving every piece of crockery a full scrub down before the new school term started. Ginny caught sight of Dobby and called him over. He came with a squeal of delight and wrapped his arms around her knees by way of saying hello. "What can I do for the friends of Harry Potter?"

"We were wondering if you could make some breakfast for us, Dobby. If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble, Miss Wheezy!"

In moment a small table had been set for the pair of them and two elves were cooking breakfast for them. It was only a matter of minutes before plates of eggs, toast, and sausage were thrust in front of them with a cold pitcher of juice. Dobby asked they needed anything else and Ginny shook her head. "This looks great, thanks, Dobby. Much better than whatever Madam Pomfrey is letting Ron eat in the hospital, I'm sure."

That reminded Neville of his conversation with Harry the day before. He doubted the house-elves were listening or would tell on them, but Neville spoke on the quiet side just in all, the house-elves did have really big ears; who knew how good their hearing was? "Harry was talking about going out to Hogsmeade today if Ron was up to it, but everybody can't go. Some people have to stay here to cover in case any of the professors check up on us."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. Harry and Ron get to go goof off in Hogsmeade while the rest of us stay here like good little children…"

Neville looked embarrassed. "Actually, he invited me too. He figured it would give Hermione and Ron some time to cool off…"

"I've seen rows like this between them end in hours and I've seen it drag on for weeks. Either they'll decide being angry is too much energy for right now or they won't. For all we know, they've made up in the hospital already."

"Or, Hermione's chained to the bed next to his because they tried to kill each other when they both woke up this morning."

"Or that, yes," she conceded, dipping her toast in the egg yolk. "Either way, there's not exactly a whole lot any of us can do to push the situation along. They'll make up when they're ready. She'll offer to help him with his homework and he'll dig a chocolate frog or a sugar quill out of the corner of his trunk and offer it to her and they'll go on as if they never fought in the first place."

"He'll make up to her with candy? Never seemed like the type," Neville said, remembering that it was only this summer that Ron's brain seemed to catch up to Hermione's female qualities.

She snickered. "Well, I didn't say he was going to bring her flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolate. He'll find something in his trunk and just kind of put it on the table somewhere along the way and tell her that he found it and thought she might like it." She paused. "She'll probably keep the wrapper and press it in her diary with the time and date on it." She couldn't help laughing again. "Well, probably not that last bit actually. But egos will be soothed on both sides and they'll come through it."

"Well, if you don't want to spend the day trying to calm Hermione down, what are you planning on doing?"

Ginny looked a little sheepish. "I actually do have some homework to catch up on before term starts, but you know, even with so few students around right now, I'm sure I could find an older student to help me with it..."

He nodded. "I'm sure Hermione will be able to help you with all of it."

Ginny laughed, "I could work on my Herbology essay if there's someone around here who could give me a hand..."

* * *

After a quick run back to Gryffindor Tower for books and parchment, Neville and Ginny spent the rest of the morning hiding out in the library. Madam Pince was still on vacation, but they had no trouble picking a table by a big window and settling in for the day. They had no desire to run into Ron or Hermione. For that matter, they could get along just fine without seeing Harry or Luna either.

Ginny didn't really need much help on her essay, though Neville proofread it when she was done. He spent the rest of the time browsing the shelves and picking out some advanced Herbology reading. He couldn't help but shiver a little as she leaned close to him, breathing on his neck and suggesting they go to lunch. He licked his bottom lip, hardly aware of the action, and turned his head, kissing her again. Judging from the expression on her face when they pulled apart, it was exactly what she had hoped would happen.

After lunch in the kitchen with the house-elves, they made their way back to the library as stealthily as they could. They heard footsteps at one point and ducked into a classroom, closing the door behind them as quietly as they could.

Ginny whispered, "I bet you could have the best game of hide-and-go-seek ever at Hogwarts. Especially with everybody gone like this. There are so many places to hide."

"You're not planning on hiding any time soon are you?" he asked quietly, looking at her. Ginny's face was a bit pink from their scurrying down the hall and into the classroom and her hair had fallen in her eyes again. He reached out and brushed it back behind her ear carefully, he bit the edge of his lip, looking at her.

She felt her lips twitch upward just a little. "Hiding from you? No time soon."

When they were sure the hallway was clear they made their way back to the library, holding hands. Their books and things were undisturbed. After all, who'd be in the library in the summer? Ginny grinned as she slipped back into her seat. "Victory!"

He couldn't help laughing at the expression on her face. "Yes, we managed to sneak through an empty castle and back to the library without anyone being the wiser."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Well, you wouldn't want Ron to see this would you?" She leaned over, kissing him, with the fingers of one hand tangling themselves in the nape of her neck. She let her tongue slide along the seam of his lips as she kissed him and his mouth opened just a little in reaction.

For his part, Neville absolutely felt himself melting in her kiss, hardly aware he was even breathing. Both of his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close (as awkward as it was to be sitting on a two chairs side by side). One hand rested on the back of her head, the other on her back. He did sincerely hope she wouldn't cut all of her hair off. He broke the kiss only long enough to turn sideways in his chair to get closer to her.

They were hardly aware of the sound of footsteps or a door closing.

Ginny pulled back from the kiss long enough to ask, "Did you hear something?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

Ginny turned her head and raised her voice a little. "Anyone there?"

There was no answer. Neville shrugged and tilted his face towards her again for another kiss. He was not disappointed. When they stopped again, they were resting their foreheads against each other. He said the first thing that came to mind. "Would it sound really, really lame if I said you're amazing at that?"

She laughed, but she wasn't making fun of him. "I hope not, since I was thinking the same about you."

As if the kissing hadn't left him flushed enough, his face went red and he shook his head. "You're just saying that. I haven't exactly had much practice," he said, embarrassed. Ginny rested her head on his shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but her warm breath was tickling his neck in a most pleasant way. He wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer.

She shook her head again. "I do mean it." She squeezed his free hand.

He looked down at her, almost as if he still wasn't sure whether or not she might be joking. "Really?"

"Really."

He couldn't resist the urge to lean down and kiss her all over again.

They considered going back to Gryffindor Tower, but one look at each other convinced them that they ought to wait. Both of them looked rather disheveled. Her hair was a rumpled mess and his was sticking out at odd angles. Their faces were flushed pink from their extended bouts of kissing, and Neville thought it might be his imagination but Ginny's lips looked a bit swollen. He wondered if his were too. His heart was certainly still racing.

Ginny was laughing. "We can't go back to the tower looking like this. I know a good place for us to clean up."

With some misgivings, he followed her through the hallways, down the stairs, and into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "Are you sure about this?" he muttered as they came inside.

"Even Hermione wouldn't look for us in here. Not when the school is empty and she could just as easily go cry somewhere else if she needs to," whispered Ginny. She raised her voice. "Hello, Myrtle. Do you mind if we use your mirrors? They're always so clean..." Ginny didn't wait long for a response and motioned Neville up to the sinks. She helped him wet his hair in the back and smooth it down a bit. She wet the top of hers down to smooth it out and braided the rest. "This looks a little better at least."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do we explain why our hair is wet?"

"Well, we can't go back to the tower now in any case. We still look like we've been making out all afternoon..."

He nodded. "That's true. By the time our faces fade and our lips go back to normal our hair ought to be dry."

"Until then, we can go back to the greenhouses. I'm sure there's something we can work on."

He chuckled. "True. We didn't get much done when we were there this morning." He took her hand.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and they started for the exit.

"No manners!" screeched a voice. "Just leaving without saying goodbye! No one ever bothers to say goodbye to moaning, moping Myrtle!"

Neville winced and put his hands over his ears and Ginny followed suit. Ginny hollered, "Sorry, Myrtle! Didn't think you were in! You didn't answer when we said hello!"

Myrtle swooped across the room, going through both Neville and Ginny and circling around. "I was waiting for you to introduce your friend to me. But no, no one has time to be polite to ugly old Myrtle."

Neville shivered at the feeling of the ghost passing through him. No wonder Ginny had known no one would find them here—unless of course somewhere could hear the fuss from the other side of the door. "I'm Neville! Neville Longbottom! Nice to meet you, er, Myrtle!"

The sobbing ghost gave a great sniff. "That's all I wanted. Nice to see _someone _has manners." She turned around and plunged back into her toilet.

Ginny and Neville hightailed it out of the bathroom as quickly as they could. They narrowly avoided Snape in one corridor and made it outside into the afternoon light with relief. Neville took in a great breath of air. The world smelled green and it was quiet. As they opened the door to the greenhouse with Neville's personal plants he felt a supreme sense of peace and rightness in the world. The sun was shining. The world smelled alive. There were things growing all around him. And he was standing here, enjoying it all, with the best friend he'd had in Merlin knew how long—and they'd spent the afternoon snogging one another senseless.

They were quiet for a while as they started watering the plants, Neville only occasionally correcting Ginny on what one of his plants needed. When the plants were watered, Neville trimmed his Fritzwick bush carefully, setting the trimmings aside when he was done. When he looked up, he saw Ginny was looking at the _mureaux pluma_, studying it.

"It looks so different now. So quiet and still," she said softly.

Neville placed his hand on her shoulder, kneeling on both knees and sitting back a bit on his heels. "See, these petals here? These are the only ones that will be left when the weather turns. The others will all drop off until it starts to warm again. Everything has its season. Some are short, some are long…but in the right environment and at the right time, they can live and grow and be beautiful."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I never realized it could be like this. I mean, we grow some useful things in the garden at home. And when the gnomes get out of hand we to de-gnome the garden—usually that was a punishment. Mum likes her share of pretty plants, but…we've got nothing like this."

He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her to him. "There's always more to see, more to learn."

She rested her head in the crook of his neck. "There really is."

They were quiet for a moment. "Ginny, I told you earlier that I'd been thinking of …did you ever think that you might fancy me before I kissed you today?"

Ginny moved out of his arms enough to look up at him. "I did. But with everything you've been through this summer…I figured it was more important for you to have a friend. I'm not saying I fancied you like this the day I brought you home to Mum, but…the past few weeks…I really like being with you, Neville."

He wasn't sure what to say. "If you'd rather be friends, I understand—"

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of one ear again. He found himself automatically reaching out to put it back for her. "Neville, I don't want to just be friends. I want to be your friend and more."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" She was looking at him as if he'd grown another head.

He found his fingers trailing through the grass at his side. "You're beautiful. And intelligent. You've got a wicked sense of humor. You're so good. And strong. And stubborn. I'm just Neville Longbottom."

She shook her head at him. "Neville, you never give yourself enough credit. To be fair, I don't think most other people give you enough credit either." She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "Neville, there's so much that you don't see in yourself." She just stopped, not sure how to explain it.

"I'm not anything special, Ginny. I'm not that smart, or brave, or good looking…"

Ginny took him by the chin and looked into his eyes. "Neville, do you really think that I would have spent most of today kissing you if I didn't think you were attractive? You don't always smile often, but you've got the biggest smile. And there's the look on your face when you're talking to your plants or working on them. The way I fit in your arms. You're not too bony or too hard or too plump…just right. I don't know how to explain it," she repeated. "I'm glad you kissed me today."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded and leaned forward to kiss him soundly again.

They stayed on the grass for a long time, watching the sun set. As the last of it disappeared over the horizon, Neville got to his feet and put out his hands to help Ginny up. "We probably should get back to the others. They haven't seen us once today."

"I wonder if they noticed."

"I don't know." He kissed her temple and they started walking back inside. "Ron's going to kill me if he sees us kissing."

"Let him try. I can take him." She had a gleam in her eye. All the same, when they made it back to the common room, they weren't holding hands. They'd find a delicate way to break the news to Ron. Neville hoped it would be when there were more witnesses around in case Ron decided to attack—he might be a bit safer that way.

Ron and Hermione were looking over Ron's transfiguration essay. She was pointing out the misspelled words and factual errors with remarkable patience, and he was doing his best to correct them without grumbling too much. There was a chocolate frog wrapper on the table—she'd given the card back to Ron already to add to his collection.

The remains of dinner were on another table, with two untouched plates. Harry and Luna were sitting by the window and Luna had her sketchbook out again. Ginny and Neville took their seats at the table. The plates must have had some sort of spell on them. The food was still fresh and hot tasted good.

"Does anyone want to play Exploding Snap?" Neville offered when they had finished eating.

"Yeah. Sounds good." Ginny looked at Harry and Luna on one side of the room and Hermione and Ron on the other side. "Anyone else want to play?"

"I'll go get my cards from upstairs," Neville said, pushing back from the table.

As Neville got up and headed towards the stairs, Harry got up to join him. "I need to get something from upstairs."

Harry was oddly quiet on the way to the dormitory. There was a sort of tenseness in him. Neville looked at him, not quite able to decipher the look on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

Neville paused, not sure if he should push it. "It looks like Ron and Hermione made up."

"Yeah."

Neville took this second one word response as confirmation that Harry didn't want to talk. Maybe he'd just wanted to get away from Luna for a bit—it wasn't exactly an uncommon feeling. They made their way to the dormitory in silence until the door was shut behind them.

That was when Harry rounded on Neville. His voice was quiet, but dangerous. "Just what the hell did you think you were doing earlier? Ron's going to kill you."

Neville mouth opened but no words came out. He blinked, not sure what to say.

"I came looking for you to see if you wanted to get out of the castle for a bit and you were sitting in the library sucking Ginny's lips off. He's going to kill you."

"Oh, Merlin. You didn't tell him, did you?"

Harry shook his head, his lips turned down in an angry scowl. "I haven't yet. I thought I'd give you a chance to explain."

Neville looked sheepish. "Explain what? It was exactly what it looked like. We were sitting in the library kissing." _And in the greenhouse, and on the lawn_, he added silently. "Ginny and I have been getting kind of close this month."

Harry rubbed his temples. "Just how long has this been going on? Ron's going to kill you and try to lock Ginny in a closet for the next decade. Not that I think he'd manage it—Ginny is a lot tougher than she looks."

Neville bristled a bit. "I could hold my own against _Ron_. Or am I going to be fighting both of you?"

"Ginny is like a sister to me, but you know Ron. You know how protective he is and you've seen his temper. What happened?"

Neville shrugged. It wasn't easy to put it into words. This summer Ginny had become the first close friend he'd had in a long time. She was so solid. So _there_. And she was beautiful—her freckles, her red hair, her smile. Holding her felt right, kissing her felt good. Talking to her was easy. The sort of conversation they had today about liking one another wasn't the sort of thing most people probably talked about at the beginning of a new relationship. Gee, did you think I was cute before I kissed you? No? Okay, well never mind then… He gave himself a mental shake and realized Harry was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. "Look, Ginny has been a really good friend to me this summer when you and Ron thought I was sent to the Burrow by You-Know-Who. I like being with her. I like talking to her and hanging out with her. And today I found out I _really_ like kissing her. I don't see anything wrong with that."

Harry shook his head and leaned against one of the bookshelves. "Ginny is old enough to date if she wants to; it's not my call to make. If you make her happy…that's good. But you if you hurt her you're going to have me and _all_ of her brothers to deal with."

Neville really hadn't expected a reaction like this from Harry. "I care about her. I'm not going to hurt her. Are you going to tell Ron about all this?"

"He's going to find out eventually, Neville. I think he'd rather hear it from the two of you than catching you the way I did."

Neville tried to picture Ron's reaction to finding him making out with his baby sister and winced. It wasn't a pretty sight. "Can you give me a couple of days before you say anything to him? This is all still new."

"Ron's my best mate."

Neville bit his bottom lip. "I know. But we could use a day or two to figure things out ourselves and then tell Ron."

Harry sighed. "Alright. You've got two days. If he asks me anything…I have to tell him the truth. In the meantime, stop being so obvious."

Neville nodded. He dug his cards out of his trunk while Harry grabbed some chocolate from his as a good excuse for having come upstairs.

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What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Please review and let me know how I'm doing.


	27. Sneakings

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and while I'd to claim to own them, I can't, so I won't.

**Author's Note: **In case you missed my last alert—I finally finished_**Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**_. You have no idea how happy I am to have the story complete—I looked back and realized I started it 8 years ago. _**Can I Keep Him?**_ is of course still in progress, and I'm working on the next chapter (very excited about it). I'm also working on _**Law and Marriage**_ and _**In the Closet**_. Would anyone be interested in me picking up _**We Were Here **_again? If so, let me know in a review. I'm seriously thinking about it, but I don't know if there's any interest.

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**Chapter 27: Sneakings**

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Neville took a long shower and then went down to the common room for breakfast. Hermione was down there already with one of Snape's books spread out next to her. "Good morning, Neville. I didn't get very far on this yesterday, but I made my way through a good half of this book the day before." Her mood was fairly bright.

"Thanks, Hermione. I didn't even think about the books yesterday. I was a bit busy gardening." He pulled out a seat and helped himself to some toast and marmalade. "Is there any bacon?"

"No, but there's sausage over here," she said, offering him the plate. "You were gardening yesterday? I thought I heard Harry say something about you going to the library last night."

Neville tried to shrug it off and took the sausage she offered. "I spent some time in the library too, helping Ginny with her Herbology homework, but mostly I was at the greenhouse. One of my plants is especially pretty when the sun is coming up." He looked for a way to change the topic. It shouldn't be hard—Hermione tended to enjoy speaking. "How is Ron doing?"

Hermione paused with her fork halfway to her mouth and set it down. "Ron is Ron. Stubborn and annoying and—well, himself. We're speaking again if that's what you were asking. I don't know what he's going to do today—I think he wants to play Quidditch, though he really should finish his homework. He'll be doing it at midnight the night before term starts and asking me for help." She pursed her lips, but didn't look particularly angry. "I do hope we get our books for the new term soon. I'd really like to preview them before classes begin. We've only got two weeks left before everyone comes back."

Neville nodded. "It'll be different once the castle is full of people again."

She swallowed a bite of whatever was on her fork before responding. "Yes, it will. I imagine Harry and Ron will be rather busy playing Quidditch when they ought to be studying. I'm not looking forward to having to listen to Parvati and Lavender spending the whole first week gossiping about which boys have gotten better looking over summer. As if people hit puberty and utterly change in two months."

He wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that, so he asked, "Did all of Ron's injuries heal?" and took another bite of his breakfast.

"He seems to have healed fine from the scratches and bites. Madam Pomfrey said that judging from the way the cuts became infected—she wouldn't let him leave until after lunch time yesterday—Crookshanks is, in fact, part Kneazle. Someone suggested that as a possibility once. I think it was Lavender. Generally I wouldn't take her word for much, but she did say her Aunt Irmintrude used to have a Kneazle and that it looked rather a lot like Crookshanks."

Neville nodded automatically. Half-Kneazles weren't uncommon.

It wasn't long before the others joined them at the table. Hermione asked Harry and Ron what they planned to do for the day and they replied noncommittally that they'd probably just "wander around the castle." She pursed her lips as though she didn't believe them.

"I kind of want to play Quidditch, or maybe going swimming," Ginny offered.

Neville looked at her in surprise. "I'm not playing Quidditch, but I might be up for swimming again."

Hermione continued to look at Ron and Harry disapprovingly. Luna said placidly that she might wander around the castle and see what the walls had to say.

Leaving Hermione to argue with Ron and Harry about what she suspected they'd be doing today, Ginny and Neville gathered their things and went down by the lake for a swim. As they headed out of the common room, they could hear Hermione lecturing the boys. "I don't care how sick you are of the castle, it's too dangerous for you to sneak out and go wandering around Hogsmeade!"

Neville and Ginny stopped at the greenhouses to take care of a few things before eventually making their way to the water. As he was trimming the Fritzwick bush, Neville told her about his discussion with Harry the day before.

"He caught us when we were making out in the library yesterday," Neville admitted. "He says we've got to tell Ron about us or he will."

Ginny snorted, making the rounds with her watering can and pausing. "Harry needs to lighten up. If we think Ron needs to know, we'll tell him. Quite frankly it's none of his business. If Harry would have said that crap to me, I'd have hexed him."

"All the same, he kind of had a point. Ron's going to go ballistic. Better if he hears about us before he sees us, if you know what I mean," Neville said. He could just picture Ron coming at him with fists and wand. They were a good match for height, but Neville knew he'd never done much fighting himself and couldn't imagine he'd fair well if it came down to it.

Ginny went to refill the can and started on the next plant. "I still don't see where it's Ron's business. I'm free to date whoever Id' like. And it just so happens, I fancy you."

Neville felt warm and tingly at that declaration. He still couldn't quite believe it. Ginny Weasley was amazing, and she fancied him. "I still don't see why."

She looked a bit exasperated, but still in good humor. "I told you some of why already, Neville. I just do. If you'd like, I can make a list and tack it to the wall in your room. #1 Incredibly snoggable, #2 sweet, #3 compassionate...Shall I go on?"

Neville shook his head, still blushing. "No need, I get the picture."

They finished most of the rest of the greenhouse chores in companionable silence. Sometimes Neville caught Ginny looking at him, watching his hands or the expression on his face-admittedly he caught her looking because he was looking too. "What?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I like watching you work. You're intense. Sure of yourself. Totally open and there in the moment. Your hands don't shake or look the least nervous. I don't know how to explain it."

He wasn't quite sure what else to say. "It's easy for me in here. Or...even if it isn't easy, I know what to do and I know I can do it."

When they'd finished in the greenhouse they went down to the lake and stripped down to their swimsuits again and got in the water, splashing around.

"I'm going to miss this when school is back in session. I don't think I've ever seen anyone swimming down here. I'm not sure if there's a rule against it or if no one ever thought of it," Ginny said.

"It's grown on me. I was nervous about it the first time we went in the water at your house, but I guess it helps that nobody's thrown me off a pier in a few years."

They sat in the sun for a while after they finished in the water and dried off. It was on the later side of the afternoon, so they stopped at the kitchen for a bite and then wandered up to Gryffindor Tower. All was not well when they got there.

McGonagall was there, giving Ron, Harry, and Hermione an earful. "It was reckless of you to put yourself in harm's way by leaving Hogwarts when you've been brought here for your own protection. Do you even care for your own wellbeing? I shouldn't be surprised at Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, but you Miss Granger, I thought had better sense. I am extremely disappointed in the three of you." She seemed to see Neville and Ginny at the entrance. "And where have you been, Mr. Longbottom? Miss Weasley?"

"Outside, on the grounds, Professor. We were working in the greenhouse and we cooled off by the lake," Ginny replied honestly.

McGonagall's lips had gone into a thin line the way they always did when she was truly angry. "You will not be sharing in your friends' punishment, but take their consequences as a warning. It is not safe for you beyond the walls of Hogwarts right now. Any further attempts to leave the grounds and you will be barred from Hogsmeade visits for the entirety of the next school year. Is that understood? Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley? Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor," they chorused.

"I'll see the three of you for detention this evening." McGonagall turned and exited briskly, leaving them behind in a stunned silence.

Ginny and Neville went to sit across from the other three. Luna was nowhere to be found. "What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Hermione, clearly annoyed. "We snuck out and we got caught. I told you both it was a stupid idea."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Then why did you come with us?"

"Because if you _did_ run into trouble I thought it would be better for you to have another wand at your side. Ginny and Neville were barely beyond the wards of the Burrow when they got attacked; there's no knowing what we could have found in Hogsmeade today," Hermione explained. She pushed her hair behind her ear to give herself something to do with her hands other than ringing the necks of the boys on either side of her.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. "I thought you guys were good at this. How did you get caught?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I've got a couple of ways to usually avoid being caught on the way to Hogsmeade, but McGonagall and Flitwick came in while we were having Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks. I guess they don't like being stuck in the castle either. There was nothing we could do but let them march us back here."

Hermione harrumphed angrily. "And now we've got five days' detention."

Ron pointed out again, "You didn't _have _to come."

"Where's Luna?" interrupted Ginny, trying to change the topic.

Apparently no one had seen her since she wandered out after breakfast. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the Tower chatting, reading, and playing Gobstones as it suited them. By dinnertime there was still no sign of Luna. Harry went upstairs and came back looking confused, folding something up and putting it on his pocket.

"Luna's off at the edge of the forest. Near Hagrid's," he said.

"What's she doing out there?"

"Is Hagrid with her?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah."

"She's probably safe then. Hagrid will take care of her," Hermione said, trying to sound firm.

"Are you sure we shouldn't go get her?" asked Harry.

Neville whispered to Ginny. "Do I even want to know how he knows this?"

She shrugged, not entirely sure herself. "They're always keeping secrets."

Hermione settled it. "We can't go now anyway. McGonagall is expecting us in 10 minutes. If she's not back by the time we finish detention, we'll go out and look for her."

Ron dragged his heels at the thought of going to detention and was forced to endure a lecture from Hermione the entire way to McGonagall's office about how it was his and Harry's fault that they had it in the first place.

Neville and Ginny watched in bemusement. "Well, they'll be gone for a while," Ginny said.

"Yeah."

"I've got a great idea about what we should do while they're gone."

"Oh?" asked Neville.

Twenty minutes later, Neville was rather regretting his rather hesitant agreement to Ginny's "great idea". He had his arms wrapped around her and they were about fifty feet in the air-though with his eyes shut as tight as they were, they might as well have only been a foot off the ground. He could feel the wind whipping past.

"Please, Neville, just let yourself enjoy it," she called over her shoulder.

His head was buried in her back. There was nothing enjoyable about an impending plunge to the Earth that was probably going to end in broken bones.

Ginny slowed their speed considerably. "Open your eyes."

He wondered how she knew they were shut but eased first one, then the other open. His arms were still tight around her waist. He moved his head to rest it on her shoulder, taking a look around. The last of the light was fading, casting a reddish light on the Lake. "Worth seeing?" she asked, stopping the broom so they could hover.

"Worth seeing," he confirmed, turning his head to the side to kiss her neck. He could feel her throat trying to make a sound against his lips, so he continued his ministrations, kissing the side of her neck, her throat, the place where neck met her shoulder. She seemed to be enjoying it so much that he experimented with some light nibbles, letting his teeth graze her skin there. Two things happened almost simultaneously. Ginny made a rather delicious sound, and the broom plummeted a good 15 feet. Neville clutched at her again as she managed to stabilize the broom and gain altitude again and Neville resolved not to do anymore kissing until they were on the ground safe again.

"We're not going back yet," she said lightly.

"No?"

"Not yet." She continued to fly them around, looking over the lake and the pitch, not straying too close to the castle. It was unlikely anybody would see them, and they hadn't left the grounds, but no need for McGonagall to get her knickers in a twist.

To Neville's immense relief they did eventually land safely. He did manage to refrain from actually kissing the ground, but a small part of him would have been willing to in exchange for a promise to never have to fly again. It had some enjoyable moments to be sure-but he'd rather stay on the ground all the same.

They walked back into the castle hand in hand, continuing through the halls until they were startled by a voice. Until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Just before it, Neville and Ginny gave each other a good night kiss, knowing that if the others were back from their detention they wouldn't have another chance tonight.

Once inside they discovered that the others were still serving their detentions, though Luna had returned and was reading a book. "Hello, Neville, Ginny," she said cheerfully.

"Hi, Luna. What are you reading?"

She showed them the cover. It was blank. "Just a book of notes I found in the library on creatures unexplained. There really are so many more creatures out there than Newt Scamander was willing to list in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. He wasn't willing to list anything that didn't have more than a dozen proved accounts of."

Neville and Ginny pulled up chairs near hers, sitting down to chat with her and pass the rest of the evening.

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**Author's Note: ** I hope you enjoyed that. It wasn't a terribly exciting chapter, but it set up a few important things. I hope everyone had a great holiday. Let me know which story you'd like to see more from next. And here's...

**Sneak Preview for next chapter:**

"Who is that picture of, Luna?"

"You don't recognize her?" she asked dreamily.

"Your daughter."


	28. Caught

**Chapter 28: Caught**

**Author's Note:** Read, enjoy, and review. I hope people are still enjoying this story. I adore Neville.

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When Neville came downstairs, Luna was already by the window, drawing, and rather ignoring the breakfast that had been laid out. He helped himself to a bit and brought a plate over to the window for her.

"Good morning, Luna."

"Good morning, Neville."

He set her plate on the windowsill for her and saw that there was a small pile of drawings next to her. At a nod from Luna indicating it was okay Neville picked the pictures up and started looking through them. A number of them were of creatures-mostly things Neville didn't recognize. A few were recognizably the people Luna was sharing the tower with. There was one picture that confused him.

"Who is that picture of, Luna?"

"You don't recognize her?" she asked dreamily.

Neville studied the picture. It was of a girl, maybe ten years old. She had a round face with a big smile. There was a smattering of freckles across the cheekbones and nose. She had ginger hair with flowers in it. The face looked rather familiar, but he couldn't remember anyone with that face and red hair. "I don't know. Who is it?"

"Your daughter."

He sputtered, dropping the papers in his hand. He looked up at her like she'd grown several extra heads and they all might bite him. "I don't have–-I've never–-Just not!" He couldn't form sentences. Luna had drawn a daughter he didn't have? Well, she was mad. Very clearly mad.

She smiled, nodding. "Not yet, no. But some day. The Encante have been buzzing around you like anything all week. Down by the water, in the common room. Pretty much any time the two of you are together. I'm surprised you haven't noticed them."

"Encante?

She nodded. "They're a sort of little sprite attracted by the sort of energy you and Ginny produce."

There really wasn't any sort of response Neville could make for this. Fortunately, he was saved by the arrival of Hermione and Ginny, and quickly went to join them at the breakfast table, excusing himself from Luna and leaving her with her pictures.

"What's Luna doing?" Ginny asked, seeing Neville's rather flustered appearance. He just shook his head, as if to indicate that Luna was just being Luna.

"Where was she all day yesterday?" asked Hermione.

Ginny helped herself to eggs and toast. "When we talked to her last night, she said that she spent the day 'exploring the edges of things.' Where two places come together and things happen more easily. Apparently she expected to find all sorts of creatures at the edge of the forest. I don't know if she found any of the ones she was looking for, but eventually Hagrid found her, a bit concerned she was straying too far. She had tea with him and talked about creatures they'd both seen. How was detention?"

"McGonagall had me scrubbing all of the desks and chairs in her classroom, as well as the floors and blackboard. I was at it for hours. To be honest, I had the best of it. McGongall sent your brother and Harry down to Snape. I'm not sure what chores he had them doing, but they smelled absolutely wretched when they finished. I ended up walking back to Gryffindor Tower alone."

Neville wasn't quite sure, but he thought Hermione shot him a look after she finished talking. What had he done now?

It was late afternoon by the time Hermione managed to pull Neville aside for a moment alone. Ginny had gone off to the loo, and Harry and Ron were working out some of their frustrations at Snape and McGonagall on the Quidditch pitch. Luna had disappeared to wander the grounds again.

Hermione had pursed her lips, looking annoyed.

"What? What is it? You've been glaring at me all day," Neville said, exasperated. What could he have possibly done to get on her bad side?

She got close to him. "When I got back to the tower last night, the Fat Lady was tittering about you and Ginny."

Neville felt the color drain out of his face. "What?"

She nodded grimly. "Apparently one of the other portraits in the hallway saw you two kissing, and as soon as you were inside raced over to tell the Fat Lady. She was still giggling about it when I finally finished my detention and insisted on telling me all about it before letting me in."

Neville put his face in his hands. "Oh Merlin," he gulped. "Do think she told Ron?"

Hermione shook her head. "If she had, you can bet Ron would have let you know it. What were you thinking? Ron's going to blow a gasket."

"A what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A gasket is...oh never mind. My point is he's going to be furious."

"Well, if she hasn't told him yet, she might not tell him," Neville said, without much hope.

She gave him that _look_ again. "You know that's not going to happen. The portraits always gossip and the only ones here right now are the six of us and the professors. What are you going to do?"

Neville stood up, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to stop seeing Ginny. We care about each other. Ron can just stuff it if he doesn't like it."

"I wasn't suggesting that––"

Neville looked down at her. "Well, you asked what I was going to do. I don't know how we're going to tell Ron, but what I do know is that Ginny and I fancy each other and I'm not going to let Ron scare me off."

Ginny came down the stairs then. "You tell her, Nev," she grinned, wrapping her arms around him, and noticing his face go rather pink. "We'll deal with Ron when it comes up. It hasn't yet."

Hermione looked exasperated. "That's what I was trying to tell Neville. The portraits are gossiping about you. One of them is going to let it slip."

Ginny looked fairly unrepentant. "Oops."

Neville pulled Ginny closer to him. "Harry already caught us kissing in the library. And Luna seems to have guessed what's going on."

Hermione sighed, looking from one of them to the other. "You both look so happy, I really hope he doesn't kill you."

Ginny lean up on her toes to kiss Neville. "Me too. But I think if it came down to it, we could have him suspended by his ankles from the ceiling until he agreed to behave."

Neville grinned down at her. Whenever she looked at him that way, he knew he was going to be all right.

The bushy haired girl sighed. "I'm not going to say anything. Good luck to you when he finds out."

Ron, Harry, and Luna all made it back inside in time for dinner. Dobby beamed at them all as he readied the table and asked if there was anything else he could do for them.

"Not today, Dobby, thanks."

They all helped themselves to dinner until, grumbling, three of them had to report to McGonagall for detention. Ginny and Neville were left in Gyffindor Tower with Luna again. Neville generally got along okay with Luna, but something about her drawing this morning rather unnerved him.

He didn't stay in the common room long, excusing himself upstairs and claiming not to feel well. Ginny wasn't buying it and followed him up shortly after.

She found him sitting on his bed listlessly.

"Hey, Neville."

"Oh, hi," he said, sitting up.

"Are you okay?"

He thought about just saying yes, and sticking to his story about not feeling well but he looked at Ginny and it was as if she could see right through him. He sighed. "I didn't want to stay down there with Luna. She made me uncomfortable this morning.'

"Why? If she did, I'm sure she didn't mean it." She sat on the bed next to him.

He wasn't sure how to start. "It's stupid really. Let's just forget it."

She gave him the look. "If it was stupid, you wouldn't have dashed away up here to hide." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "It's okay to tell me."

He looked down at where their hands met and felt a little better. "Well, you know she's been drawing all these pictures. Well, she drew one of someone who doesn't exist. And it freaked me out. It's stupid."

She squeezed his hand again. "Should I just go down and look at it myself?"

"No...it's...she drew a girl. She said it was our daughter." The words spilled out of his mouth. He looked up at her anxiously.

Ginny's face was rather blank for a moment. "Oh." She laughed a little. "I guess that was one way for her to tell us that she thinks we're good together." She leaned over and began to kiss him.

And just like that, it didn't seem so important anymore.

Eventually, Neville managed to separate his lips from Ginny's with a great deal of regret. "We're going to be dead if Ron comes back and finds us in here snogging.'

Ginny grinned, "Let him," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.

He wormed his way into a sitting up position. "We both agreed that it was better to tell him than to just have him walk in on us. Let's tell him in the morning."

She kissed him one more time and then agreed, sitting up a bit and resting her head on his shoulder. "Fair enough. Let's go back downstairs."

They were sitting quietly in the common room when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came back from their detentions smelling rather foul and with matching tempers. Not one of the three was in the mood for company, and they all promptly disappeared up the stairs to their dorms to shower.

* * *

After breakfast, Hermione declared that she was going to shut herself up in the library and try to relax away the idea that she still had three more detentions this week. Harry explained that he was going to the pitch before anyone took away their freedom to get fresh air at times of their own choosing. Luna announced that she was going to listen to the wind.

As the first three headed towards the portrait hole, Ginny and Neville found themselves still at the table with Ron, who was just finishing stuffing his face.

Neville swallowed. This was it. Ron was just pushing back from the table to join Harry on the pitch when Neville finally opened his mouth. His words came out a bit strangled. "Erm, Ron."

"What?"

He took a breath and felt Ginny take his hand under the table. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Your face has gone all funny, Neville. What is it?"

"I like your sister."

"Yeah, Gin's great, isn't she? Her hexes can even make Fred and George turn tail most of the time," Ron said, looking at his sister proudly. Ginny shook her head.

He could feel Ginny stifling a snicker next to him and looked at her. Did she want to talk? Apparently not. "Ginny and I...we fancy each other." He felt Ginny lift his hand and their clasped hands were suddenly visible on top of the table.

Ron stopped short. "No. Just no. Let go of her hand and move away from her."

Ginny looked calmly at her brother. "No. I fancy Neville and we're going to be seeing each other for as long as we feel like. We just thought we'd do you the courtesy of informing you of that."

Of all the responses Ron could have made, they really weren't expecting the one he chose. He lunged across the table and attempted to pry their intertwined fingers apart unsuccessfully. Ginny kicked him in the shins under the table and he sprawled across it, knocking his elbow in the butter dish.

"If you can't be mature about this, I don't see any reason for us to tell you anything," she said. "I told you there was no point in telling him."

The redhead used his hands to lever himself back up into a sitting position. "You're supposed to be my friend, Neville, not..." He made a disgusted face and exited the room, one arm still covered in butter, the other in an orange juice he'd knocked over.

Neville turned to Ginny once the door slammed behind Ron. "I get the feeling I ought to sleep with one eye open tonight. Can I stay with you?"

She chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. "You're the one who wanted to tell him."

He stroked her hair. "Might have been a bit daft of me. Even if he does murder me in my sleep tonight, I think the last couple of days have been worth it."

She moved her hand over his back, up and down. "Well, I won't let him murder you. Besides, I think if it came down to it...you could take him."

Neville grinned. He'd said as much to Harry. It was good to know someone else believed in him too. After the stress of that morning, they took the rest of the day easy, hiding out in the greenhouses where Ron was unlikely to look for them. The feel and smell of the soil relaxed Neville like almost nothing else could, though, as he looked over at Ginny, with the sun glinting off her hair, he thought she came pretty darn close.

Ron and Harry didn't come to Gryffindor Tower for dinner that night. Ginny and Neville had a pleasant meal with Luna and Hermione, until Hermione went to go round up Harry and Ron from the kitchen and drag them off to detention.

Neville went to bed before the others returned from detention. He figured he could pretend to be asleep when Ron came in and avoid any sort of ugly confrontation.

When Ron came in, he stood by his bed and spoke quietly, but loudly enough for Neville to catch his words clearly. "I know you're not asleep, Neville. You're not snoring. If you hurt my sister, I'm throwing you off the Astronomy Tower. I doubt you'll bounce."

Neville lay as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe, clutching his wand beneath the blanket..

"Good night." With those parting words, Ron got into bed. Neville didn't quite breathe comfortably again until he heard the other boy snoring.


	29. What You See

**Author's Note: **Hi, everybody! Sorry it's been a couple of months since my last update! The story is nearly over (are you relieved? sad?). Anyway, this chapter is a bit different, and it's dedicated to Maran Zelde, who gave me some awesome ideas for this chapter. There will be another couple of chapters and then...the end. But I've got other stories in the works as well, and Neville is one of my favorite characters, so he's pretty much in all of them. Updates are coming fairly regularly on _**Law and Marriage**_. I finished and posted the additional chapters to _**Trust Me**_-I totally never expected what that story became when I wrote the first scene with Lily and Snape. And I finished _**Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**_ this winter. And I've got a story in the works about Malfoy being sentenced to living without his magic for a year (not posted yet, waiting 'til this story is done). Anyway, I've blathered enough. On with the show!

And tomorrow (April 9) is my birthday. It'd totally make my day if you reviewed!

* * *

**Chapter 29: What You See**

* * *

The next few days fell into a sort of pattern. Neville and Ginny were up early and spent most of their day out of the tower either by the water, or in the greenhouses, or on the pitch-though largely Neville preferred to stay on the ground. It was hard to say whether Ron preferred to keep them in his sight to assure himself that Neville was behaving, or whether he preferred not to see them at all so he wouldn't be reminded of anything he found disgusting. The nightly detentions had he, Harry, and Hermione in a foul mood in the evenings, so Neville and Ginny preferred to be stick near Luna or go up to their rooms before the others got back.

One week before classes were to resume-the day after finishing their final detention-they all went down to the common room for breakfast and discovered that their textbooks for the new term had arrived at last, wrapped in brown paper, a large stack for each of them. Hermione was the only one particularly pleased by their arrival. Unfortunately for those looking to escape from this new arrival, the weather had turned foul, and they'd have to be crazy to go out flying in it. Even Neville didn't relish the idea of braving the weather to head out to the greenhouse. While the rest of them were discussing whether or not it was totally senseless to go out in the rain, Luna disappeared.

Ginny was the first to realize the blonde girl was missing. After a cursory search of the dormitory and common room showed that she had left, Harry volunteered to look for her.

"It's pouring out there, Harry. I'm sure she's still in the castle. She's probably gone to the library or something. We ought to be looking through our texts for the new term," Hermione said.

Ron hastily got up and joined Harry. "We'll go look for her just in case. We'll be back soon." They hastened out of the room.

Hermione looked peeved, watching them exit. She sighed. "They'd do anything to avoid a little extra homework."

Ginny leaned back a bit in her seat. "Well, I'm not planning on doing any homework at the moment either. I was thinking we ought to play a game of Exploding Snap."

The older girl relented for the length of a game or two. Neville had no doubt that wherever Harry and Ron were hiding out, they wouldn't be back for a while. He relaxed with his arm around Ginny as they played the game.

When Ron, Harry, and Luna returned in the late afternoon their clothing was rain wet and had a fair bit of drying mud splattered across it. Hermione's mouth opened and she was clearly ready to deliver a lecture or ask questions.

Ron just shook his head. "Don't bother." Without another word, he went up to his dormitory, presumably to put on something clean and dry.

Luna seemed hardly aware of the dampness on her clothes, though she seemed to have less mud on her than the other two. Her hair hung in damp straggles, and she smiled serenely, settling in front of the fireplace.

Harry couldn't seem to decide about whether to follow Ron upstairs or join Luna by the fire. After a moment's indecision, he shook his head slightly and went upstairs.

Neville watched the situation, rather bemused and not at all sure what had happened.

The evening passed peacefully enough. The mud cracked off of Luna's clothing as the fire dried it, and she looked around dreamily as she told them about the whizzing fire-gnats she'd been chasing when Ron and Harry found her. Hermione's look of condescending disbelief seemed to just fall harmlessly aside.

"What do whizzing fire-gnats look like?" asked Ginny, shooting the brunette a bit of a glare. There was no need for her to take her frustration with the boys out on Luna.

"Oh, they're about the size of your pinky toe, and they're very hard to see before dark. They cammoflauge quite well with their surroundings. But they love to dance with the stars-they think the stars are dancing back with them." She raised her arms in the air, moving her wrists in circles. "And I do think the stars dance back. They glow so fiercely bright, twirling, and making beautiful patterns. I want to learn their dances and dance with them." In a fluid motion, she was on her feet, twirling, smiling blissfully.

Hermione seemed to lose what was left of her temper shortly after that and took several of her textbooks upstairs to her room in a bit of a huff, telling them all good night.

Luna was sitting at the fire again and staring into the flames with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eyes closed slowly and she looked peaceful.

As Neville kissed Ginny good night he almost asked a question, and spared a glance at Luna, deciding to put it off.

* * *

Neville woke up in the morning to find Harry surprisingly already gone from his bed. Ron was still snoring in his. Neville showered and dressed and went down to the common room, finding Ginny there alone.

"Hermione was here, but she's gone to the library," she said. "I think she's decided not to bother lecturing any of us today."

He kissed her, sitting down to the table as well. "Did Harry go with her?"

Ginny snorted. "To the library? Not likely. At least, he wasn't down here when I came down. Are he and Ron gone already?"

Neville shrugged, helping himself to a slice of toast. "Ron's still up there, but Harry's gone."

"Luna too," Ginny added.

They mulled this information over for a moment.

Neville slowly spread jam over his slice of toast before asking. "I was going to ask you this yesterday, but it didn't seem like the time. Do...do you believe her when she says she sees things?"

His girlfriend looked somewhat surprised by the question. "Luna? I think she sees things. I don't know if they're always what she thinks they are, but I don't think that it does any harm. And she may be able to see things we don't know how to look for. Why?"

He wasn't entirely sure why this question was so important to him, but it was. "The Threstrals. I know everyone things Luna's kind of loopy, but she could see the Threstals and there was a reason she could see them. I could see them too. You don't know how much it scared me when I realized I could see them second year and no one else seemed to notice them-not Hermione, not Dean, not Seamus. I kind of shut-up about them after that. But it turned out there was a reason I could see them and they couldn't-but all the same, if I'd insisted I did see them, none of them would have believed me."

She scooted her chair around and wrapped her arm around him.

"Sometimes I do wonder if she's a little barmy, but a lot of me doesn't, and just wonders why she can see it when we can't." He shrugged. "Part of me wants to see too. The other part doesn't know what the price might be and kind of doesn't want to know."

Ginny pushed her hair back behind her ears and took his hand in hers. "I think you do see a lot of things other people don't. And you've opened my eyes up to some of them. I never saw plants the way you do until you showed me. I hadn't thought of them as anything but those things we need to eat for dinner or use to make potions or occasionally as something pretty in the yard. You showed me how very alive they are, and interesting, and complicated."

He blushed, feeling his very ears going red. "You're just saying that."

She shook her head. "I'm not."

* * *

Harry wasn't sure exactly how he'd found himself here, but he was leaving the kitchens with Luna, carrying a satchel of raw meat. It wasn't exactly a pleasant smell, but he'd smelled plenty of worse things since coming to Hogwarts. Besides, being in Luna's animated, cheerful company rather made up for it.

"This is just the right season. There should be some young ones. Their legs are quite spindly and they tend to frolic a bit, almost like oversized kittens."

He looked at her a bit disbelievingly. "I've never seen anything that looked less like a kitten."

She smiled serenely. "You didn't think those gnats could dance yesterday either."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I didn't expect you to climb up a tree to follow them." He tilted his head curiously. "I didn't know you could climb so well."

"You never asked."

They passed by a window and a ray of sunlight streamed in, catching the girl's hair just so, practically making her glow. Or maybe it wasn't the sun. Maybe it was just her.

"Do you spend a lot of time in the forest?" he asked.

She tilted her head, "Not a lot, but more than most."

They made it out of the castle without incident, unseen by anyone by the paintings and possibly the Fat Friar. With Luna for company, Harry found himself feeding the threstrals at the forest's edge, and having a surprisingly good time. He watched Luna standing with one of the foals, stroking the young animal's muzzle and listening intently to the little sounds it made.

When all of the meat was gone and the threstals had drifted away, they moved to another spot along the forest's edge, to where Luna was sure the unicorns would come.

After they'd been sitting there for some time she unexpectedly interrupted the silence to ask, "Do you believe in the things I've told you I've seen?"

"Well..."

"Seven years ago, did you believe in unicorns."

"No."

"Well, maybe after you've seen what I've seen, you will."

It wasn't long before one of the white, long horned creatures approached them at some distance. He had to think she might have a point.

It was late before the pair of them made it back to Gryffindor Tower side by side. The only comment from the others was Hermione asking where they'd been all day. Ginny elbowed her and added, "Hope you had a good day. We saved you some supper if you haven't eaten yet."

* * *

With five days until school started again, Neville considered looking through his textbooks, until Ginny recommended taking advantage of what could be their last beautiful day before classes started to swim, and possibly do a little flying.

Of course, it was August, and while the weather might be hit or miss, any day it was good, this was a valid excuse for the rest of their vacation.

And so it was that Neville and Ginny were down in the green house on a beautiful day and she was trying to cajole him into spending the afternoon flying with her when Dobby appeared in front of them with a letter.

"Mr. Neville Longbottom sir! Dobby has a letter for you," the house-elf said, bending low and holding the letter out in both hands.

Neville looked down at his dirty hands and shrugged, wiping them on his robes. He opened the envelope and pulled out a clipping from the _Daily Prophet_.

_This week, an arrest was made by Aurors in the Bristol region. The unidentified witch was charged with growing deadly plants with a malignant purpose, and as an accessory to murder. No word has yet been released on who is responsible for delivering the plants to the victims, but amongst the plants found in the woman's garden include sopophorous beans, Indigo Death, and a snargaluff that nearly took this journalist's head off. She lacked any permits for these plants and has no documentation of using them for any medical potions. Indigo Death is exceedingly rare and has no known uses other than as an inhaled agent of death. The witch in question has attested that she didn't know what the plants were for and merely grows them as asked. "I'm very proud of my nursery. I like a challenge, so I look for plants that are difficult to grow. I don't use them for anything." An anonymous source submitted evidence that one of the plants from this garden may be responsible for the death of Augusta Longbottom, which until this point was thought to be a death by natural causes. The deceased's heir and grandson was unavailable for comment._

Neville read the short article twice, and Ginny read it from behind him, looking around his arm, wrapping her arm around his waist. "They didn't get Lestrange," he said numbly.

"But they got the woman who gave her the weapon. It's a start, Neville. It looks like Snape came through for you after all." She wrinkled her nose. "Who would have thought that?"

"It's something. I wonder how he pulled it off?"

"Well, we haven't seen him flitting around the corridors like the great big bat that he is lately. He must have been off doing something. Merlin knows what." She tightened her arms around him.

"At least now it's out there. Who knows? Maybe she'll even turn on Lestrange and they'll be able to get her too." He didn't say it with much confidence. Lestrange was a maniac. Even someone who was facing Azkaban probably wouldn't risk her wrath.

They stayed in the greenhouse working quietly for almost another hour. Admittedly, not much got done. Neville put the clip from the paper back in its envelope and put it in his pocket. He turned back to his plants. He occasionally did something with one or the other of them, but most of what they had set out to do today was already done. He spent a lot of time just looking at them, or running his fingers through the soil. It was so malleable, and there, and the scent of it and the freshness and the plants just filled his mind and nose.

Ginny stayed with him, wrapping her arms around him or just sitting with him. Sometimes nothing needed to be said.

Eventually, they went back inside and got some sandwiches from the kitchen before going back to Gryffindor Tower to tell the others about their news.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope that wasn't too abrupt, but I assure you, there's more coming. We'll be seeing a few professors again shortly. Hopefully I'll update again next week!


	30. Professors, Professors, Everywhere

Author's Note: Hey, everybody! Another update. This chapter just came to me and absolutely demanded to be written, so I had to oblige. So if anybody's lost track—I had to go back and check myself. It's August 28th in the story. The story will end with the start of the new Hogwarts term, so there isn't too much more to go. I know some of you have been reading this since I started it…7.5 years ago. I know it's been a slow road sometimes, but thanks for hanging in there, from the bottom of my heart. I was kind of stunned the other day to realize this story has 92 followers—I'm so glad I'm not the only one with a soft spot for Neville. Anyway, enjoy! I'm sitting on my balcony right now, enjoying blue skies and typing away!

* * *

**Chapter 30: Professors, Professors, Everywhere**

* * *

"We could come up with some sort of terms, if you're willing to work with us. Maybe reduce your sentence, or find some way to make your time in Azkaban more comfortable. Mark my words, you are going to prison. There's no doubt about that." The Auror was leaning against the wall casually, looking the woman.

The woman bared her teeth at him, struggling in her chair. She threw her head back and laughed. "I'm more afraid of her than I am of the entire Ministry of Magic."

He kept his distance, trying to remain cool and collected, pushing his brown hair off his forehead and smiling. "Tell us what you know willingly and we'll see what we can do for you. I know you didn't poison Augusta. We just want to catch the person who did."

The dark haired woman continued to glare at him.

He crossed to the table suddenly, slamming both hands down on the table. "Listen, we can make life hell for you, or bearable. You do not want to cross me." The voice was dangerous, low and deep. The man's face and body shifted until the woman in the chair was staring at Augusta Longbottom. "Do you see this face? Have you seen this face before? This is the face of the woman you helped kill." The voice was urgent and intent. "Augusta Longbottom. Her grandson will never hear her voice again. He will never see her face. But if you don't tell us everything you know about the woman who hired you, I will make sure you see this face and hear this voice every day for the rest of your miserable life. And I hope it's a long one. I'm going to give you a few minutes to think it over." The Auror turned heeled and walked out, slamming the door behind himself. Herself?

As soon as she was in the hallway she let her face morph back into it's natural one. Well, natural with an added shock of blue hair. She took a deep breath.

Her partner chuckled. "Did you go in there as a man again?"

She shrugged. "I figured it be more intimidating than regular me. Plus, that way it'd be more dramatic when I made the transformation into Augusta Longbottom."

"You're one of a kind, Tonks."

She grinned and after a second's concentration took on her coworker's face. "Now we're two of a kind."

"You know that creeps me out. Better go back in there and see if it worked. If it didn't, I heard Mad-Eye wrote to old Dumbledore to see about getting some Veritaserum. We're fresh out of it. We really need a potions master on staff here. Budget cuts again."

Tonks snorted. "Isn't it always?" She concentrated and changed back into the male face and body she liked using for interrogations where she was supposed to be particularly intimidating. "Well, wish me luck. Maybe she'll be ready to talk without it."

"Not if our sources are right and it's Bellatrix Lestrange she's protecting. There's a woman who'd rip your heart out of your chest while it was still beating, just for fun."

Tonks found herself shifting a little uncomfortably, remembering that Bellatrix's blood ran in her veins. It was something she generally tried not to think about. She set her chin and went in. She had a job to do.

* * *

"So that's it then? They caught the witch, and it's over?"

"I don't know," Neville said slowly. He was still processing the contents of the article that had been so anonymously sent to him. "I want to see Lestrange pay for this. Whoever the other witch is is responsible too. I mean, she grew the plants and gave it to Lestrange. But..." He shrugged, turning and staring at the floor.

"Maybe she'll turn on Lestrange if she thinks it will help her," Hermione suggested.

Ron snorted. "Would you turn on Lestrange? She's mad."

Ginny took Neville's hand and squeezed it tight. "Well, it's more than we had yesterday. We don't know where Lestrange is or what she's doing, but at least there's one less maniac out there."

Neville nodded. It was true. There was one less malicious person out there. The woman had to know that growing the plant and giving it to Lestrange, someone was going to die, no matter how much she might claim innocence.

Hermione was looking over the article again. "There isn't much here. _Did_ anyone try to contact you about this?"

"No, but I guess Dumbledore didn't want anyone to know I was here and blocked the mail from getting to us."

Harry chuckled, and after a pause during which the others all looked at him, he explained,. "I was wondering if he was blocking any other mail for us, but the only people who send me letters are right here."

Neville squeezed Ginny's hand and she smiled at him. He asked quietly, putting his mouth close to her ear. "Do you think we should go find Snape and thank him?"

"Maybe tomorrow."

He nodded. Tomorrow.

* * *

Neville and Ginny wandered down into the dungeons slowly. He wasn't too eager for the trip, but a part of him felt that he at least owed the Potions Master a thanks for his role in getting some justice for Gran. Afterwards, he could go recover in the greenhouse. It would calm him down from any nervousness or anger produced by interacting with Snape.

They didn't speak much until they came to the professor's door. Before he could change his mind about it, Neville knocked hard three times.

There was a long enough pause that Neville thought perhaps Snape wasn't in. It was possible.

And then the door opened slowly.

Snape was standing there, somehow managing to look both bored and irate. "Longbottom, classes do not start for several days. I do not need to see your face before September first. If I had my way I wouldn't see it after September first either." He blinked slowly, turning his head slightly to focus on Ginny. "Have you taken up a career as Longbottom's shadow, Weasley? Or are you there in case he accidentally sets fire to anything?"

Neville could feel Ginny tensing and squeezed her hand. "Professor, I just...I just wanted to say thank you."

Snape sneered. "For what, Longbottom?"

"For whatever you did. I read in the paper that an anonymous source...just, thank you." Neville gritted his teeth. He was trying to do the right thing here and say thank you to the cranky bat and he was making it difficult. Watching Snape's face, Neville might have almost thought there was a flicker of surprise or gratitude. But he must have imagined it.

Snape turned back towards his desk where there was a cauldron already bubbling-the potion was both colorless and odorless. "You have interrupted me in the middle of something important. I suggest you start practicing this term's potions now, Longbottom. They're all highly dangerous and I won't have you causing an explosion in here when it's filled with students."

Ginny seemed to be barely suppressing a glower at Snape. "Is that an offer, Professor? Are you offering to help Neville with his potions right now, so he'll do well on his lessons this term?" she asked, smiling cheerfully.

"Weasley, if you want to risk your own skin standing next to him while he's brewing, be my guest. I'll enjoy watching the show," he sneered.

To Neville's horror, Ginny smiled wider. "We'll be seeing you after lunch then, Professor Snape." She tugged on Neville's hand and led them out of the room.

As the door shut behind them, Neville groaned. "Why...?"

"Oh, I don't know. It seemed like a good way to annoy him. Besides, your new potions kit and book arrived. Obviously you've got some interest in the subject even if you don't like it or you wouldn't be taking the N.E.W.T. level class."

He stared at the floor. "Gran wanted me to take it. I didn't actually score high enough on the O.W.L. to be in Snape's N.E.W.T. class though. I guess whoever picked up our books didn't realize it. And...potions is useful. If I knew more about potions, I'd know what plants the Healers need for example that they might have a hard time getting. That sort of thing."

Ginny set her face in a determined way. "Well, you and I can work on it together. We've got a few days before term starts, and I'm pretty decent at potions. And if it annoys Snape, so much there better."

Neville shook his head at the thought, but somehow or other, after they'd eaten lunch, he found himself back in the dungeons again and knocking on Snape's door for the second time that day. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" he muttered.

"Too late to back out now," she said softly.

Snape opened the door again, one eyebrow raised fractionally, almost as if he were amused to see them. "Back so soon? Longbottom, you do know you didn't qualify for my N.E.W.T. level course, don't you?"

He nodded simply, and set up his cauldron and potions ingredients next to Ginny at one of the back tables of the room.

Snape seemed to pay them little mind, largely concentrating on the rather complex potion he was brewing himself. Every so often Severus found himself glancing toward the stupid Gryffindors at the back of the room, expecting to see an explosion, or a catch a whiff of putrid smoke. There was nothing of the sort. When Snape kept his distance, it seemed the boy was at least adequate at brewing. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Weasley corked Neville's potions in a little vial. She said something quietly to the Longbottom boy, and, after a moment, he approached the desk where Severus was brewing the Veritaserum the Ministry had demanded. The Ministry never paid as well as other buyers might. "Have you managed to poison yourself, Longbottom?' he drawled.

Neville swallowed, feeling his adam's apple bob in his throat. "No, sir. I was just hoping you'd check my Hiccuping Solution."

"Leave it on my desk. Touch nothing else."

Nodding, Neville left it there and returned to the desk where Ginny was waiting for him. She had ladled out several more doses for Neville to keep, confident that they'd turned out correctly and would work, and was now cleaning the cauldron. "I think you should make another batch of something from the book," she said.

Neville looked up at where Snape was working. He hadn't run them off yet. "Okay. Let's see..." Without Snape breathing down his neck, it really wasn't so bad. He was sure that Hiccuping Solution had turned out okay.

Severus considered making critical comments about the boy's slicing technique as he was cutting Valerian root for his next potion. He didn't doubt that if he walked over and said three words to the boy, the knife would tremble, and he would probably cut himself, or the girl. Or perhaps he'd knock the cauldron over. He contemplated doing just that for several moments while the boy prepared his ingredients, or perhaps saying something to make him lose count while he was stirring. Surely it'd be satisfying. But it also amused him to know that, had he not been critical of him for the last five years...perhaps Longbottom might have done better in his classes. No matter. A cool and collected mind was necessary for brewing. Longbottom didn't have that and never would. The fact that being around himself or the Slytherins in his class exacerbated his clumsiness and inability to concentrate was of little consequence. A quick glance at the Hiccuping Solution told him that it was viable. It was perhaps slightly thicker than it ought to be, but it was certainly usable.

After placing his third potion on the professor's desk-careful not to disturb any of the things Snape was working on-Neville and Ginny cleaned up their workspace and left. At the last moment, Neville said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Professor."

Severus actually blinked in response, and the Gryffindors were gone before he could come up with one of his usual caustic replies.

Neville was exhausted. He'd managed to keep his concentration in track all afternoon and (as far as he could tell) successfully brew three potions, with no mishaps. And Snape had utterly ignored him.

"I think you should keep studying potions on your own. You seem to be managing okay. And Hermione could help you with any that might be difficult or dangerous," Ginny suggested, as they rounded the corner, leaving the dungeons.

"She used to try to help me during class, but I'd get lost trying to listen to her and Snape at the same time, or he'd see and get mad at me..." He grinned wearily. "Do you think we surprised him today?'

"I think you did. He didn't even get a parting shot in," she said, grinning back.

"I don't want to think about potions, or smell potions, or anything the rest of the day. I need some fresh air," he said, looking towards the giant doors.

"Greenhouses?"

"Greenhouses." If there was anything that would relax him when he was feeling this tense, it was the greenhouses. Soon, he filled his lungs with the smell of fresh-turned earth, and green growing things. He left his potions paraphernalia outside and went inside, hardly aware of the grin spreading across his face.

They tended the plants for a while, moving from one greenhouse to another, and finally settling in the one where some of Neville's own plants were. They were sitting in the dirt, having just come in from pruning his massive beast of a plant outside. And then they rested. Neville was lying with his head in Ginny's lap, and she toyed with his hair with one hand, intertwining the fingers of her free hand with his.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, watching the sun starting to sink in the sky and go rosy pink. He reached up to touch her cheek, and she leaned down, and they were kissing one another, utterly disconnected from anything around them but the smells of the greenhouse, feeling of each other's lips, and the warm air surrounding them.

In fact, they were still kissing one another in that position when they heard a chuckle. Standing in front of them was Professor Sprout. It was hard to say which of them blushed harder. Ginny did of course have the famous Weasley blush that spread all the way to her ears and chest, but this professor was Neville's mentor and he had a feeling his face was warm enough to rival his girlfriend's. Girlfriend. It still sounded funny in his head. He had a girlfriend. A goofy smile spread across his face. They had sprung apart at the sound of laughter and scrambled to their feet.

"Longbottom, I see you've been taking good care of my plants. I just came from Greenhouse Two. Everything seems to be in order."

"Yes, Professor. I've only been here since the middle of the month, but I've been trying." He swallowed hard. "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Yes, yes, I did. I visited a sister of mine in Bristol and went to gather a few exotic plants across the channel. Has Weasley been assisting you in the green houses?" The professor had a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh yes. Ginny has been a big help."

Sprout looked at Ginny appraisingly. "Glad to hear it. I hope that means you'll be more attentive in my class this term, Weasley?"

She smiled. "Of course, Professor. I have a much better understanding of the potential of plants now than I used to."

"Good. The sun is fading fast, so you two better get inside." Ginny exited first, and as Neville was just heading out behind her, gathering his potions things, Professor Sprout added, "And, Longbottom, I'd be careful about what gets fertilized here, do you understand?"

If Neville had thought his face was red before, it was nothing compared to the heat he felt at that moment. Oh Merlin, Circe, Morgana! Nothing like that was going on.

They walked most of the way back in silence until Ginny finally couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny. Oh, Merlin, she's never going to trust me again."

"Relax, Neville. I'm sure it's not the first time she's caught a couple of students making out in there. I overhead Fred telling George once-"

"Gah. I don't want to hear about _that_."

"I guess all the professors will be coming back. I'm surprised we haven't seen more of them."

"Yeah. And in another three days, the corridors will be filled with students again."

Still laughing, and embarrassed, they returned to Gryffindor Tower, hoping their flushed faces wouldn't be too noticeable in the dimly lit common room.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks, everybody, next chapter will be up soon. I'd love to know what you thought of this one, so if you have a minute, please review?


	31. Useful

**Author's Note: **You know the routine: read, enjoy, review. It so seriously makes my day when you do. I got a new job a few weeks ago. I really like it, only downside is that I work in a windowless basement now. So please, bring some sunshine in with your reviews!

**Chapter 31: Useful**

* * *

Neville and Ginny spent the early part of the morning down at the greenhouses assisting Professor Sprout. She had been down there already when they arrived at dawn to see the _mureaux pluma_. It wouldn't be in full bloom for much longer.

Neville was impressed with several of the specimens that the professor had managed to acquire this summer. While he was excitedly discussing the properties of the _bush with Professor Sprout, Ginny found herself looking longingly through the glass at the clear skies. They'd have to go flying this afternoon. She had to concede that while Neville still wasn't at ease in the air he was getting a bit less nervous. She turned her attention back to him, smiling at the expression on his face. He was so animated when he was working with plants, so patient, and passionate, and confident. This really had been an incredible summer. It seemed a shame that classes would be resuming soon to muck it all up.

As the morning wore on, Neville remembered that he and Ginny were supposed to go see Snape. "We can skip it if you'd rather stay out here," she said.

He thought about it for a minute and shook his head. "No. I want to show him...even if I'm not in his class anymore, I'm not afraid of him. We're going back."

Ginny grinned, proud of him. They bid Professor Sprout goodbye and popped into the kitchens briefly for a snack before getting Neville's potions gear and continuing to the dungeons. Snape looked nonplussed at seeing them at his door, but hardly surprised.

In fact, there were already ingredients laid out on the table where he and Ginny had worked the day before. "Longbottom, if you can manage not to louse it up, all the ingredients for a Pepper-Up potion are assembled in that workspace. If you insist on forcing your presence on me, you ought to at least make yourself useful. That goes for you as well, Weasley."

Neville's mouth opened slightly in surprise, but Snape had already turned to go back to the potion he had been working on. He and Ginny went to the desk and he whispered. "This is for the hospital wing. He's expecting me to make a potion someone is actually going to use..." He bit his lip nervously.

She squeezed his hand. "Even if he doesn't want to say it, clearly he thinks you can do it. _I_ know you can."

After Neville's initial nervousness subsided he found himself feeling a little better. Snape must not have found anything wrong with yesterday's potions or he wouldn't have given him this one to work on. Unless Snape was planning on giving it to the hospital wing without checking and then blame Neville when it didn't work? He snuck a furtive glance at the Potions master, wondering if he was that diabolical. He probably was that diabolical, though Neville hesitated to think that that was actually Snape's intention today. He'd set up the ingredients and two cauldrons for he and Ginny after all-he had expected him to come back. Neville realized that Snape was looking back at him, watching him work. The Potions Master's face was expressionless, as though Neville was just another brick in the wall.

In an hour's time, Neville had a Pepper-Up potion in front of him that looked the same as the one in front of Ginny. With Snape keeping his distance, he'd done it right. He was feeling fairly pleased with himself when a shadow fell across him and he saw Snape standing in front of him. He ladled out a sample of Neville's potion, and a sample of Ginny's and handed the vial with the other person's potion to each of them. "Drink up."

Neville watched Ginny drink his potion apprehensively. Oh, Merlin, if he messed it up and hurt her...

She was fine. Steam was coming out of her ears exactly the way it was supposed to.

"And you, Longbottom."

He swallowed the potion without a second thought and soon found his ears steaming.

Snape made no sign of approval. He simply told them to transfer the contents of their cauldrons to the medium sized jars in the cupboard and start on the next batch if they weren't too tired to do a little work.

Ginny and Neville made another two batches, just to prove that they could. Snape didn't even approach them after the second batch. He merely gave them a slightly challenging look, and Neville decided he should do one more batch. They were fairly exhausted by the time they left; they had no plans of returning the next day.

Snape's only comment as they left the dungeon was, "Brava. You've done one useful thing with your summer vacation."

They didn't talk much on the way back to Gryffindor Tower. They had learned something. Neville wasn't abysmal at potions. Professor Snape just scared the living daylights out of him. If Snape left him alone, Neville could actually make something decent. And _that_ was certainly worth knowing.

Luna and Hermione were both in the common room when Neville and Ginny arrived. They collapsed on a sofa together, ignoring the dinner that had already been set out.

"Where have you two been?"

"Working," Ginny said, resting her head on Neville's shoulder.

"We made Pepper-Up Potions for Snape," Neville elaborated, closing his eyes. He slipped his arm around Ginny. He could hear Hermione's fork being set down or dropped rather noisily.

"You made potions for _Snape_?" she repeated.

Ginny cracked an eye open and looked at her friend. "Yes. If you want to be useful, you could bring us our plates. I don't want to move right now."

Luna picked up one of the plates and two forks and brought it all over to the two on the couch. "Be sure to go for a walk after dinner or Nilly-Webs might get tangled around you while you sleep, and you'll get stuck like that."

There was a hint of a smile on the girl's face that had Neville almost certain that she was just pulling their legs. "Where are Ron and Harry?"

"Quidditch pitch," Hermione answered. "I think we should all spend the day together tomorrow. It's the last day before everyone comes back."

Ginny snorted. "You say that as though we're not all going to see each other when lessons start. You and Ron and Harry and Neville will have plenty of classes together. And I live here. And, Luna, you know, I don't think anybody would care if you still visited Gryffindor Tower when term started."

It was still light out, and after dinner, Ginny coaxed Neville out onto the pitch with her for a bit of flying. They passed by Ron and Harry, who were just heading inside themselves. Neville sat on the ground. "Fly, I'll watch."

She shook her head. "Come with me."

With a minimal amount of finagling, Ginny had Neville mounted behind her on her broom. She kicked off and they took off into the air. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist, and with his face on her shoulder, he could smell her shampoo. He knew that no matter how nervous flying might make him, she wouldn't let him fall. The air was still warm, but had an edge to it the faster they went, and the sky was even clear enough to make out most of the constellations he vaguely remembered from his astronomy lessons.

Neville was yawning by the time Ginny had had enough of the air, but he didn't mind. She always seemed so free, so happy when she was flying. Walking back to the castle, he said, "I know Hermione talked about wanting all of us to spend tomorrow together, but...I'd rather spend one more day with just me and you before everyone comes back. If you want to."

She smiled back at him, adjusting the broom on her shoulder. "I'd like that."

* * *

The next day dawned as promising as it could. Neville was a bit ruffled at having missed the sunrise and taking Ginny down to see the _mureaux pluma_ again but...they did see it yesterday. Besides, he wasn't sure he was quite ready to face Professor Sprout again. Ginny made it to the common room for breakfast shortly after he did and kissed him on the cheek. "Morning," she said, helping herself to some breakfast. "What did you have in mind today?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go out by the lake to start. Do a last bit of swimming. And maybe have a picnic lunch?" he asked, wondering if it sounded lame. "Other than that...I don't know yet." He had a vague idea forming in his head, but he wasn't sure how ridiculous it was yet.

Ginny and Neville managed to get changed into their swimsuits and out of the tower before anyone else except Luna was downstairs-and she didn't seem too keen on interrupting whatever it was exactly that she was in the middle of. Neville thought it might have been some sort of extra slow motion dance.

They saw the Fat Friar having a discussion with Flitwick on their way out to the grounds, but neither the ghost nor professor had any interest in keeping them indoors on such a fine day. They wandered out to the lake, leaving their towels and outerwear by a tree and moving into the water. They splashed in the shallows, and eventually swam a bit farther out.

"There you are!" came the call from the shore. "We were wondering."

The looked and saw Hermione standing on the shore, just getting out of her t-shirt. Ron, Harry, and Luna weren't far behind her, and soon the whole throng was in the water. "This really was a good idea, Neville," Hermione said, treading water beside him. "It'll be the last chance to do this for a long while."

"Yeah, great idea, Neville," Ron said, sneaking a glance at Hermione while she was getting out of the water.

Ginny shot her boyfriend a rather wry look. It had certainly been pretty nice when it was just the two of them. Oh well. Who would have ever thought that sweet, shy Neville Longbottom would be more forward than the ever tactless Ron Weasley?

They all sat on their towels around a large assortment of food provided by Dobby. The house-elf looked as though he might burst into tears when Harry suggested that he join them for a meal. He did take a cookie and eat it standing up at Hermione's urging that he have a bit of something, and then left, saying that he and the other house-elves had a lot to get ready before the students returned-beds to make up, classrooms to clean, a feast to prepare.

Ron was talking about some of the things he'd like to stock up on from Zonkos as soon as he could get out of the castle.

"Or we could just asked your brothers to send stuff," pointed out Harry.

"Well, yeah, there's that. You don't think they'll keep us out of Hogsmeade all year, do you?"

Hermione chimed in with her two Knuts at length, while Neville spoke quietly to Ginny. "I do wish I could take you out on a date."

She squeezed his hand. "Don't worry about it. Not missing much there. We've had a lot of fun the past couple of weeks here without going anywhere."

He smiled, thinking especially of the last few days. But really, they'd shared so much this summer. "I do have an idea...for a date tonight."

"Oh?" She tilted her head. "What is it?"

He chuckled. "It's a surprise. I can't tell you. I have to see if it'll work out first." The first step would be to get themselves away from the others. Something in the others' conversation brought the two of them out of their solitude.

"I'm going to climb the to the tops of the trees and listen to the wind."

"I could fly you to the top and save you the climb," offered Harry.

Luna smiled serenely, shifting positions on her towel and tucking her ankles behind herself. "If you rush through everything you miss so much. I've considered starting to walk two steps forward and one step back everywhere I go, that way I can see more of the world."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you do that, you're going to run into people in the corridors between classes and knock someone over. Or get knocked over."

Surprisingly, Harry came to Luna's defense. "Well, then isn't today the best day for her to do it? Before the place gets cluttered up with people again."

Lunch continued and Ron eventually went back to the water to cool off-and clean the mustard off his chest. Neville watched the others go back in the water while he and Ginny sat in the sun chatting. He closed his eyes and laid back on his towel.

He woke up to the sound of someone saying his name. "Oh, Neville..." He opened his eyes to realize Hermione was standing over him, looking sympathetic. That was never a good sign.

"What happened? What's wrong?" He started to sit up and winced. That wasn't good. He was pink. Extremely pink. Oh Merlin.

Ginny sat up and grimaced. They were both sunburnt.

Hermione frowned as if trying to remember something. "I don't _think_ I have anything for it in my trunk, but I could go back to my room and check."

Neville eased himself to his feet gingerly. "Don't worry about it. We'll go see Pomfrey and she'll sort us out. I kind of wish I had brought an aloe plant, but I never got around to getting one." His front was raw enough that he didn't want to put his shirt back on. All the same, he wouldn't want to run into Snape or McGonagall or anyone in the castle wearing nothing but his trunks. He slipped his shoes on and winced-even the tops of his feet had burned.

Together, he and Ginny made their way slowly back to the castle. She had slipped her t-shirt and shorts back on. They greeted Professor Vector with a nod as they climbed the stairs. All the professors were coming back. The new term really was almost upon them.

Neville pushed open the door to the hospital wing, sincerely wishing he would have just had burn cream with him and been able to spare him this trip. Oh well. "Madam Pomfrey?"

They were hustled off to two of the beds where Madam Pomfrey delivered a lecture about the dangers of overexposure to the sun and the importance of taking preventative care. She gave them each a pot of burn cream and pulled the curtain between them while they applied the cream. Neville felt the cooling, tingling sensation almost immediately as it sank in to his skin. When the cream had done it's work, the white cream had turned rather foamy and pink, and he washed it off with a damp rag the matron had provided for him.

With their skin still tingling slightly, they left the hospital wing. "Glad that's over," Ginny said. "I don't need another lecture like that for at least a month."

"Me either." They walked in silence towards Gryffindor tower when Neville stopped fairly suddenly. "I know what I want to do for you tonight. It's a surprise. I'm thinking if you go back to the common room though-"

"-Hermione will want us to spend the night up there with them hanging out. I hear you. I'll hide out in the library. How long do you need?"

"Give me an hour and I'll come get you," Neville promised. He leaned in and kissed her. "You're the best." She went her own way towards the library and he went back to the kitchens. He stood in front of the painting with the bowl of fruit for a good five minutes tickling the apple before he remembered he was supposed to tickle the pear. He went in and found the elf he was looking for and explained what he wanted.

Dobby was delighted. "Dobby is always happy to help the friends of Harry Potter, Mr. Neville Longbottom sir."

"I don't want you to tell Harry or the others about it. This is a surprise for Ginny."

"Dobby likes Miss Wheezy, and loves surprises!" In almost no time, the elf saw to it that Neville had what he needed packed into a basket. He brought it up to the room of requirement and walked back and forward in front of the door several times, trying to picture what he wanted. He took a deep breath and went in. He was certainly impressed with it. He could only hope Ginny would be too. He set out the basket of food and headed out to the library to get Ginny.


	32. Together

**Author's Note:** This chapter was a lot harder to write than I was anticipating. The story is nearly done, just a few more loose ends to tie up. To everyone who recently started following, and everyone who has been following for a long time, thank you so much for your support. Seeing those notifications (especially the reviews), brings a smile to my face and makes me want to write.

* * *

**Chapter 32: Together**

* * *

Neville held Ginny's hand as they walked through the corridors. It didn't take long for her to realize they were headed to the room of requirement. She pulled him into an alcove at one point while they waited for the Bloody Baron to pass by. Neville let out a relieved breath when he did. "He still scares me. First year I fell asleep in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady-I'd forgotten the password and she wouldn't let me in. He passed by at least twice, moaning and rattling. Scared me something awful."

She squeezed his hand.

It wasn't long before they found themselves in front of the room of requirement. Neville found his hand was a little sweaty. What if she didn't like it?

Ginny leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure whatever you planned will be great."

Neville didn't want great. He wanted perfect. She deserved perfect. He took a breath. "All right. Let's go in."

He opened the door for her and they went inside.

There was a table, set for two, with a candle burning. Neville went to pull out Ginny's chair for her, but she didn't realize it and sat down in the other chair. She realized her mistake and chuckled. "Sorry."

He shrugged, blushing a bit (so much for trying to be gallant) and sat in that chair himself, squeaking it against the tile floor as he scooted forward to the table, trying not wince. Smooth, Neville, real smooth.

Music played quietly, audible enough to be relaxing, but not so loud as to drown out conversation. Climbing vines wound their way up pillars along the walls and between them. There was the distant sound of a small waterfall, out of sight toward the back of the room. The air smelled fresh, and not as though they were in the middle of an ancient stone castle at all. Ginny smiled at him. "It's lovely, Neville," she said honestly.

He belatedly remembered the basket on the floor and picked it up, unpacking the dinner the house-elves had prepared. There was a little cornish hen for each of them-seasoned with rosemary, and lemon, and garlic. And there was a covered container of roasted potatoes and vegetables they shared out. He was certain all this food couldn't have fit in the basket, but he kept feeling more food in there, and so he took out a basket of rolls, and butter, two bottles of juice, and a massive slab of chocolate cake. There seemed to be no end. "Dobby outdid himself," he said. At last, there was nothing else left in the basket. Including silverware.

Still, it was the room of requirement. All he had to do was need it, and be looking elsewhere for a moment, and when he turned back, there was silverware, bundled up in a cloth napkin.

As they spread their napkins in their laps and began to eat, and talk, Neville found himself frowning at his hen. How on earth was he supposed to eat it and still look civilized? He could cut meat off of the breast easily enough, but all the rest of the meat would be much harder to get with a knife and fork. He looked up and found Ginny had taken the leg off hers and was holding it in her hand to eat.

"You don't mind, do you? These things are a pain to eat with silverware."

He was relieved. He had so much wanted to make this a romantic date, the sort of night out she deserved before the general populace returned and cluttered everything up with classes and gossip and the DA and everything else that came with a term in full swing. "Do you think anything is going to happen this year?"

"With...everything?" she asked. "I assume things are going to get worse out there. A lot worse before they get better. All we can hope is that Dumbledore and everybody manage to fix it, to fight them off. And to do whatever we can to fight from here. If Harry won't run the D.A. this year, I will," she said vehemently.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

She shrugged. "Not yet. But I'm sure people will start asking as soon as everyone is back."

Neville nodded. He felt the same way. They needed to be able to defend themselves. This fight was real, and it was at their doorsteps. Even if Hogwarts was safe...it was one of the few places that was. He'd admit it to himself—he was proud to have gone to the Ministry last year. It was the first time he'd been able to actively strike out at the people responsible for so much pain in the world…including his own.

As they finished their dinner, the volume of the music went up slightly. He smiled at her a little lopsidedly. "May I have this dance?"

She curtsied with an imaginary skirt, still wearing the shorts from their earlier outing. As they started to dance, she said, "I have to say, you really are light on your feet."

He chuckled. "I don't know why that surprises you still."

Ginny looked at him, teasing, "Hermione told me that after the Yule Ball, Parvati and Lavender spent a good part of the evening nattering on about the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons boys, but that they did take a break from it all to comment on your dancing. I definitely think the Patil twins wish they hadn't been so quick to agree to go with Ron and Harry." She dipped backwards into his arm, and came up again, and he spun her once before bringing her back close to his chest.

"Professor Snape may still scare the daylights out of me, and I'll probably never exactly be a world class flyer-but I _can _dance." He spun her again, just because he could. And so they danced, the only two people in the world.

* * *

Tonks stared at her glass, her usual buoyant attitude somewhat lacking, though she had tried to crack a joke a few minutes before, but it had gotten all tangled up and she'd fallen quiet. Charlie nudged her with his elbow, and brushed his lips against hers when she looked up. "Still thinking about it?" he asked, continuing an earlier conversation. The same one that had been on her mind for days.

She shrugged. "He seems like a good kid."

He nodded. "As far as I can tell, yeah."

"His parents were amazing Aurors, and after what she did to them...she's still around to ruin his life _again_ 15 years after that. And she's still loose. She could totally destroy his life _again_. Next time she might kill him." In her anger, as her voice got tighter, her hair took on the colors of fire. "He doesn't deserve that. And I don't think there's a damn thing I can do to stop it," she said, frustrated. "The interrogations aren't going anywhere. We're no closer to finding her than we have been since she escaped."

He clasped her hand. "You're doing what you can. You're doing your job. With everybody looking for her, you'll catch her one of these days."

She glared down at her beverage and took a swig. "'One of these days' isn't good enough. Who says she won't kill someone else first? How many more lives is she going to ruin before we bag her?"

There wasn't much more he could say to that. There were no guarantees he could offer her, not in this world. Well, there was one. "Tonks, the only thing I can promise you, is that I love you and I'm not going anywhere. If you need to hunt her down to the ends of the earth and back, I'll still be here." He squeezed her hand.

Her mouth curved in a half-smile, looking at him. "Is that a promise?"

"It most certainly is." They kissed one another in the dim light of the pub, both knowing that the road ahead was going to be dark, but at least they weren't walking it alone.

"Do you know what Bill said to me last week when we went met up for drinks and you went to the loo?" she asked.

"No, what?"

"That handling me was probably a lot like handling dragons, and it's no wonder you're the only one who can," she said flippantly.

"Oh, he's wrong. You're much more pleasurable to take care of than a dragon. You don't breathe fire at me, and..." he made his voice soft, "I can certainly stun you easily enough without my wand."

She chuckled, her eyes catching the light. "Your wand skills are one of your more attractive qualities, though I'd have to say I'm more drawn to your hands." She traced her finger from the center of his palm, outward, over his thumb and to the back of his hand. "I'd swear there was magic in these hands."

"Oh, there is, there most certainly is. Let's go back to our place and I'll show you."

She breathed. "Our place. I do like the sound of that." They'd moved in together a week ago, and it still brought a goofy smile to her lips to hear him call the flat they shared _ours_.

* * *

It was late and the house was quiet, except for the occasional creakings older houses were prone to making. There was no fire in the grate. She found herself peeking in through doorways where she knew her children weren't. It would be months before she saw them again. Turning to go back down the stairs again, she found herself face to face with someone. She had thought everyone who was here tonight was asleep. His voice was gentle, and he took her hand with one of his, brushing her hair back with his other one, his fingers lingering familiarly on his cheek. "Come back to bed, Mollywobbles. They're safe. Albus is taking care of them."

She let her body fold against his. "I know, Arthur, but...it's a long time 'til we see them again. What if something happens?" Her voice caught in her throat. "I still remember losing Gideon and Fabian as if it were yesterday. Our children...they're so young. So hard-headed. And with such big hearts." She shook her head.

"They have all your best qualities," he told her. "And they're not that young."

She kissed the tip of his long nose. "And yours. I'm convinced the twins would never have started that business of their's if they hadn't watched you tinkering with all your Muggle j- artifacts for years."

"And Charlie finding a different animal to care for every term didn't have anything to do with watching you care so well for every one and every thing that passed through these walls?"

"They're good people. We've raised them right. It just...it feels like we've made them vulnerable that way. There are so many people who want to hurt them. I sometimes wonder..." She looked her husband, her partner, her best friend, in the eye, not quite willing to voice her fear, but wanting him to see the unasked question.

"We've done right by them," Arthur said firmly. "They're good people. They're strong. They're filled with love. And they're going to make this world a better place. We've made it a better place for them, and they'll make it better for their children."

She sighed, letting his words wrap themselves around her in a way she desperately needed tonight. She nodded. She had to believe it. If she didn't...what did anything else matter? "If we hadn't had to send them away early...we'd be taking them to the station tomorrow morning. I'd have tried to send them to bed early tonight, and they'd probably stay up anyway, and we'd be looking for lost socks and books and quills ten minutes after we should have already left for the station."

He chuckled. "I'll never forget the way I found Charlie asleep in front of the front door before the start of his first term. Bill had convinced him that there'd been a mistake with his letter and he wasn't really accepted, and we were going to leave without him."

"Percy was so excited about going to Hogwarts that I couldn't get him to wear anything but his Hogwarts robes for all of the Christmas holidays when he came home."

"The letters McGonagall sent about the twins...

"Who would have pictured our little Ronnie going away and doing all that he's done?"

"And Ginny can certainly hold her own."

She straightened her nightgown. "They're too young to have to fight in this war. I wish we could keep them safe from it. Take all of the hexes ourselves." She shook her head, knowing it was a useless wish, but also knowing she'd step in front of any wand pointed at any of her children. "Let's go to bed."

Hand in hand, as if they were sixteen and walking down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower on a late night stroll, they turned their back on their youngest son's empty room and went down the stairs.

* * *

Neville and Ginny had danced until they were breathless, vibrantly alive with the feeling of each other so close. He wondered, not for the first time, how he'd been lucky enough to have her in his life as his friend, and as so much more. They let themselves collapse onto a couch in one corner of the room of requirement. "I know this has been a hard summer for you, Neville, but I don't know how to explain how glad I am to be with you."

He simply nodded, wrapping his arms around her. "I never imagined we'd be here like this."

She snuggled against him, breathing deeply. "Can we stay here tonight?"

Neville almost felt like he could hear the unspoken questions. Can we have one more night of just holding each other, all night, before the rest of the world comes back? Before they disturb what peace we have right now? He knew why there was a couch here for them to sleep on instead of a bed. There was something more innocent about it. Their relationship was still new and there were lines they weren't going to cross. But tonight at least they could hold each other and let the world slip on by.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know some people were hoping for a bit more physical romance in this chapter, but I just can't help but imagine 17 year old me who started this story glaring disapprovingly. Such things may happen in other stories, but I'd like to finish this one in the vein in which I started it.


	33. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:** This is the FINAL chapter. I started this story back in 2005. It's been a long time coming to it's end, but I'm glad I came back to it, and I'm glad it's here. I adore Neville particularly, and the N/G pairing, but I'm ready to work on my other stories. If you like N/G, my story (complete) _**Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**_ does feature them, though mainly that story revolves around Harry. In progress right now, I plan to work on _**Law and Marriage**_ and _**In the Closet**_. Though, I'm also looking at _** We Were Here**_ and I'd like to try and finish that soon.

* * *

**Chapter 33: Welcome Home**

* * *

Neville and Ginny had woken up early, aware that reality would be descending upon them again today. "We should go," he said gently.

"I don't want to."

He kissed her hair, smiling to himself and glad that she never followed through on her threat to shave it all off. "If we don't go, how can you talk to Harry about arranging the first DA meeting of the year?"

"True."

"And there's Quidditch tryouts."

"Nnnng," she mumbled, rather noncommittal.

"And, the more pressing matter of breakfast."

She chuckled. "I supposed we should go. We might even be able to get back before Ron realizes we're gone and pitches a fit. I don't care what he thinks...but just watching him be angry is exhausting."

He wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist. "I think you've got a better fight in you, but the way he holds grudges..." Neville just shook his head. "I don't understand the reason he's mad half the time."

"I don't think he knows why he is either half the time. And the rest of the time it's for a stupid reason." She raised his hand up to her lips and kissed it before slipping easily off the couch and getting to her feet. "Perosnally I think we'd all be happier if he and Hermione just had a good snog one of these days." She tugged on his arm until he was standing too. She reached out to attempt to smooth his hair down.

He shook his head, shrugging. "If it's half as bad as yours, it's a lost cause."

Ginny rain her fingers through her hair, feeling the tangles at once. "I knew I should have shaved it off."

On that note, they started their trek back to Gryffindor Tower, not terribly concerned about what state the hours of kissing and dancing and sleeping had left their hair in.

Neville felt his face going a bit crimson when they ran into Nick not far from the portrait of the Fat Lady. They had to engage in smalltalk with him all the way back to the tower.

"We wanted a chance to talk to Dumbledore this morning before all the students came back, but he didn't answer when we knocked on his door," Ginny responded to the ghost's question about what they were doing out and about. Neville doubted Nick believed the answer, but he didn't comment on it. The thought did occur to Neville that he wondered what the headmaster had been up to the past couple of weeks. They'd hardly seen him.

At last, the awkward conversation was at an end. Ginny cut off the comments the Fat Lady was starting to make by firmly giving her the password. They found Hermione and Luna in the common room and Neville gave a sigh of relief. "Is Ron awake?"

"No. I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn't budge. And Harry had the nerve to tell me to go away and let them sleep. It's not going to be _my_ fault if they're late to the first day of classes tomorrow because they've been sleeping in all summer and didn't bother to start training themselves to wake up early again." Hermione was spreading jam on a slice of toast. "Dobby said lunch will be the last meal we have up here. And a house-elf will be moving Luna's things back to Ravenclaw Tower this afternoon."

Neville nodded absently, wondering just how disheveled he and Ginny looked and whether Hermione was drawing any incorrect conclusions...or if she was caught up enough in her annoyances that she hadn't noticed.

She huffed, motioning at the couple still standing by the door holding hands. "For Merlin's sake, both of you, sit down already. I'm not going to yell at you for ditching us yesterday when I told you that I thought it'd be nice if we all spent the day together. If you didn't want to hang out with us, all you had to do was say so."

Ginny did look slightly guilty at that and sat next to Hermione. "I'm sorry. We just figured it was easier to slip away than to deal with any arguments from Ron."

"Well." She didn't know where to go from there. It was as if she'd run out of steam, or deflated. She took a deep breath and looked from Neville to Ginny. "I hope I don't have to remind you to be...prudent about anything you do."

"Oh Merlin," Ginny muttered. Neville attempted to hide his face behind his toast. "You can save the lecture, Hermione. It's not needed."

Her friend looked visibly relieved.

Neville cleared his throat, coming out from behind his breakfast. "All the same, if Ron doesn't know we were out all night...I'd rather him not know."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Because he's Ron and I know how he is."

"And because what I do or don't do frankly isn't his business," retorted Ginny. "Just because he doesn't have the sense the gods gave a dog doesn't mean the rest of us don't have any."

Luna chimed in in her usual way, effectively putting a hold on the conversation, "Ron is like a Scatterainian Beetle. They spend years in their larval stage before suddenly spinning a cocoon of their own saliva and toxins and then maturing all in a week. Someday, he'll stop being a larva and you'll be surprised at how different he is as a beetle."

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a relative flurry of activity. Hermione checked all of her summer homework (as well as Harry and Ron's as the boys finished the last of their essays after she warned them that she wouldn't even consider looking at a single line after the feast tonight). She also saw to it that her things were arranged to her liking in the dorm room as well as the bathroom that she'd share with the other girls. Maybe by asserting her space now, Parvati and Lavender might not fill the bathroom shelves with their cosmetics and hair products. Maybe.

Various misplaced things belonging to all of them were found in obscure corners of the common room. Several of Luna's pencils had rolled under her favorite chair by the window. One of Hermione's novels was lodged between the sofa cushions. They made a concerted effort to get everything back where it belonged.

By three in the afternoon, Harry and Ron were looking longingly out the window to get one last bout of flying in and get themselves away from Hermione's well-meaning tyranny. She told them to stop being ridiculous. It was clearly going to rain any moment now, and if they wanted any hope of her checking over their essays for Flitwick...

Neville and Ginny remained on the fringes of these exchanges between the trio, choosing by and large to sit with Luna and play a round of Gobstones or chat, and to occasionally glance at the work the professors would be collecting from them this week. It was all Neville could do not to burst out laughing when Ginny muttered to him, "If the idiots would have thought of it, they could go into the room of requirement and fly there. Hermione wouldn't be able to find them, and I'm sure the room could stretch to manage a decent space for them. Do you want to..."

"I feel like if we move out of these chairs, Hermione's going to tell us to do our homework or something," Neville said out of the corner of his mouth.

Ginny glanced ruefully at her essay. She hadn't touched it in hours, but she'd done as much as she planned to.

A cheery house-elf came in shortly afterwards to take Luna's things back to Ravenclaw Tower. "Can we come?" Ginny asked.

Luna blinked. "I don't see why not. I can show you where the best spot for listening to the wind is."

Neville found that Ravenclaw Tower wasn't so different from Gryffindor Tower, though the windows overlooked the grass rather than the lake. There perhaps more straight-backed chairs and study tables than overstuffed sofas and coffee tables. Overall the feel of the common room was quite the same. Though there was a corner with floor to ceiling bookshelves with books students had left over the years. A short, hovering ladder could be ordered right, left, up, or down to reach the books as required.

When they came back to the Tower, Ginny decided to intervene before Ron could lose his temper while Hermione tried to get him to commit to a sensible study schedule. "Neville and I were just thinking, when would be a good time for the first DA meeting of the year?"

"I think it should be before the end of the week," added Neville.

"I hadn't really thought of it," Harry confessed. "I thought people might want a few weeks to get used to being back before we started anything."

"We did something real last year. We need to start back right away, to remind people that this is a real fight, that it's here, and that we can do something about it," Neville said with surprising heat.

Hermione broke in, "Neville's right. Sooner is better than later. Rushing headlong into things like we did at the Ministry isn't something I'd advise any of the others to do...but the point is, we're learning and teaching skills that they need. That they'll use. That'll protect them if they're lucky."

"You don't have to do it alone, the three of you, I mean," Neville said. "Ginny, and Luna, and I and the others...we're willing to put ourselves on the line. You're not the only ones who've been hurt in this war."

Ginny nodded. "I'm not going to be the damsel in distress _ever_ again. It was one thing when I was eleven. I didn't know better. I was too stupid to realize what was going on. Never again. From now on, I fight."

In the end, they decided on Friday for the first meeting of the year. Anyone who wasn't willing to give up a Friday night for the cause clearly didn't realize what was at stake, and didn't belong there.

* * *

Severus Snape eyed his classroom with a critical eye. It was clean enough to begin any of the potions the students would be making tomorrow, but he was certain that by the end of his first lesson there would be some dunderhead who would be notified that he'd be spending his first week at Hogwarts cleaning cauldrons or pickling newts. Surely there'd be something for the poor fool to do.

He mentally noted how much calming draught and headache solution he had on hand and decided he needed to triple his stores. By this evening the halls would be filled with the racket of dithering idiots. At least the Longbottom boy wouldn't be in his class again this year. There was no need for him to see Severus, to be reminded of the justice his family would never receive. So far as Severus knew, Bellatrix had no further designs on the boy. Killing his grandmother was a lark. Something to amuse her one day when there just weren't enough people being killed for fun.

As best as Severus could discern from his interactions with the Dark Lord and his followers over recent weeks, a couple of the younger members had been feeling restless. Bellatrix had encouraged them to linger around the Weasley's property in hopes that there might be good sport. If Bellatrix herself had been present the night Weaslette and Longbottom foolishly wandered beyond the wards, they wouldn't still be here to plague him now. Severus didn't need to look in the mirror to know there were dark circles under his eyes. Albus had listened to his reports impassively, nodding. No action would be taken at this time. If the Order could take down Bellatrix in battle, they would of course. But to send members, or even send the Aurors into the snake's lair would be madness. They needed to bide their time.

_"Protect Harry. Keep your promise. The time is not yet ripe."_

The old codger was clearly getting barmy, if he hadn't gone there long before. Some days Severus wondered how long his own sanity would last, or if it might already be gone. Surely a sane person would have given up all this nonsense years ago. Instead, the cool layers of rationality just kept icing over him. When would they crack?

He took a deep breath and allowed his mind to seethe over the thought of having to save Potter's skin again this year. He had no doubt he'd have to. If the boy was too stupid to live...he should be allowed to just die and get it over with. Why protect someone who clearly valued their own life so little?

Severus retreated to his office. A tumbler of Fire Whiskey might be necessary before attending the idiotic welcome feast.

* * *

Neville and the others were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. When the rest of the students started to stream in through the main doors, they'd join the throng as if they'd gotten off the train as well, and hadn't been at Hogwarts for the past few weeks.

He went to take Ginny's hand and was surprised to find his palm was sweaty. Embarrassed, he wiped it on his robes.

She took his hand anyway and gave it a squeeze. "Just another year."

"A better year," he said, looking down at her. He bent his arm at the elbow, pulling their clasped hands towards his lips, kissing the back of her hand.

Ron was grumbling about something to Harry, who was trying to listen to both of his best friends at once. Luna was just trailing down the stairs after them.

As the crowd of second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh years made their way through the front doors and started streaming towards the Great Hall, the six friends slipped into the crowd.

Neville and Ginny made their way to the Gryffindor table and soon found themselves sitting across from Hermione and Harry and Ron. Their friends from the DA gave them smiles, and Neville had no doubt that word would soon be spreading about the first meeting of the year. He realized Ginny was still holding his hand, and their hands were resting on top of the table. He caught Lavender and Parvati looking their way, and one girl whispered something to the other. As the older students settled, McGonagall appeared with the Sorting Hat and three-legged stool, and an assortment of anxious eleven year olds behind her. Dumbledore stood to offer a few opening words.

Another year had begun.

* * *

**Author's Note: **P.S. I'll be posting an epilogue on Wednesday night. :-D If you enjoyed this story, please let me know what you thought. I really do like specific feedback to help me grow as a writer.


	34. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** This is the FINAL chapter—the epilogue. I started this story back in 2005. It's been a long time coming to it's end, but I'm glad I came back to it, and I'm glad it's here. I adore Neville particularly, and the N/G pairing, but I'm ready to work on my other stories. If you like N/G, my story (complete) _**Why I'm Quitting the Cannons**_ does feature them, though mainly that story revolves around Harry. In progress right now, I plan to work on _**Law and Marriage**_ and _**In the Closet**_. Though, I'm also looking at _** We Were Here**_ and I'd like to try and finish that soon. Thank you so much for all of your support!

Oh, and...Happy birthday (yesterday), to Neville Longbottom, who would be 33 if he existed, and happy birthday today to Harry Potter, who would be 33...y'know, if he existed anywhere other than our minds and hearts and stories like these.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

_December 1996_

Neville was holding Ginny's hand as they waited. He'd been invited to the Weasleys for Christmas. He was a little nervous. It had taken Ron some getting used to to seeing Neville with Ginny. The thought of going back to a house that would be filled with half a dozen of her older brothers and her parents...he felt a little uneasy.

All the same, they stood on the platform together, waiting for her parents. Harry and Luna had gone back to the compartment to look for something, though Ginny had snorted when they said that. They probably just wanted to make out in private before the holidays separated them. "Although I really don't know what they're so worried about. It's not as though it's a long flight from where she lives to the Burrow," Ginny pointed out.

He brushed her hair out of her face. It was short-and Ginny had decreed it was one of her worst ideas. It was long enough to still get in her way, but too short to be pulled back. "I'm pretty sure we're going to be under pretty close watch. Maybe they've got the right idea."

"Relax, Neville. You've met my parents. They like you."

"That was before."

She shrugged. "They'll still like you. A couple with as many kids as they have, can't get annoyed at seeing us kiss."

It was his turn to snort. "I'd think they'd have all the more reason-they know where kissing can lead."

She kissed him then (after swatting him on the arm first), and he knew that he'd have as many uncomfortable conversations as necessary with her brothers, dad, uncles, and cousins...so long as he could keep kissing her for as long as possible. "I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too, Neville."

* * *

_April 1997_

Neville hadn't wanted to leave Hogwarts for the Easter holidays, but Uncle Algie had been rather insistent. He wasn't under Order guardianship anymore, and hadn't been for months. He had shooed his protective detail away, saying that if anybody came for him, he'd put up a hell of a fight and he'd make it or not.

If Uncle Algie wanted to see him now, he knew he should. He felt a little guilty for not spending the Christmas holidays with him, though Uncle Algie had been invited over to the Weasleys for Christmas dinner. Neville had never been to such a large family gathering before. So, it was with reluctance that Neville boarded the Hogwarts Express and left Ginny behind on the platform at Hogsmeade.

He shared a compartment with Luna, who hadn't wanted to leave her father alone when she had the opportunity to visit. She worried about him rattling about the house by himself. Not that she said it in precisely those words, but...Neville could read between the lines. Saying that she was afraid he'd get bored and go chasing Snorkacks without her and get hurt was about the same thing...wasn't it?

At the station, there was Uncle Algie, looking defiantly hale, despite the thinness of him. He stood without a cane or prop. He peered at Neville. "Did you get taller? Again?"

"Been this height all year, Uncle." He hugged him gently, as though afraid he might snap him.

"You can do better than that, Nev. I've bounced you off the roof, haven't I? You're made of sterner stuff. Give me a proper hug."

They went to the small flat Uncle Algie was living in. "I'm too old to be taking care of a house and a yard. But tell me everything, boy. It seems forever and an age since I've seen you."

And so Neville talked. He told him about his classes, his friends, Ginny. He skirted around the DA, not certain how much his Uncle could handle.

They had picked up kabobs from the fish and chip shop down the street for dinner and come back to the flat when Uncle Algie looked at Neville sharply. "This girl, do you love her?"

Neville was taken back. "Of course I do. She's everything to me."

"Then what are you doing here with me?"

"You wanted to see me, and...well, I felt like I should be here. We're family, and I didn't come home for Christmas..." He stumbled, caught off-guard in a way he hadn't been in a while. It was funny how people from your childhood could make you feel as though you were a child again, whether or not they meant to.

"You should have brought her with you. I want to see the two of you together without a crowd of her family around. But since you didn't, I thought, if you're sure about her, now might a good time to give you this." The old wizard reached into his pocket and pulled something out, placing it in Neville's hand and closing his fingers around it. "It belonged to your grandmother, and your mother. They'd want her to have it. You'll know when the time is right."

* * *

_June 1997_

Neville was sitting alone in his dormitory, glancing at the ring in his hand. His uncle had said he'd know when the time was right. He wasn't even quite seventeen yet. Not of age. And Ginny wouldn't be sixteen until August. He knew people would say he was too young to make this decision. But he also knew his heart was given.

Would Ginny say they were too young? In the middle of a war that was going worse every week, did that make things like love and committing to one another more important or less? Maybe the pageantry of it was less important. The dressed and that crowds and all that. But the love that two people shared? That was more important than ever.

He glanced at the clock and saw that Ginny would be at Quidditch practice for a while still. The final game of the year was this weekend. Gryffindor only had to beat Ravenclaw by 200 points tomorrow to win the cup. If he used one of the tunnels Harry had shown him this year...he could make it to Hogsmeade and back. Probably without being seen. But would they have what he was looking for?

Neville risked the trip and was well-rewarded for his efforts, coming back cradling something precious in his pocket. The other pocket held the ring. He'd carried it and kept it locked in his trunk off and on the past couple of months. Some days, he just wanted to ask her, tell her, beg her to be his wife and make him the happiest man on the planet, even if only for a day, an hour, however long they had left in this world.

Other days, he saw the reservation in her, the uncertainty of not knowing how long they had. When she'd start to talk about the future and then break off, not knowing how long the future for any of them would last. But he knew. He knew that if he had a future, he wanted it to be with her. He hoped that the reason she'd beak off when talking about the future was because she wanted what he did, that perhaps she wanted it so much, that she didn't want to contemplate the possibility that they might not live that long-even though he knew she'd never consider not fighting. He reached the greenhouse and hunted expertly for the things he needed. Good soil, a trowel, a small pot. Working in the fading light, put a little bit of moist earth into the pot. He breathed deeply, concentrating, bringing the precious bulb out of one pocket and the ring out of the other, placing them together until the ring disappeared inside the bulb. He nestled it gently into the clay pot and covered it with the remaining dirt, patting it gently.

It felt like an eternity before he saw the Gryffindor Quidditch team traipsing back to the castle. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wouldn't say anything to her until they could speak privately. Clutching the potted bulb to him, he caught up to the Quidditch players. Ginny looked pleasantly surprised to see him, and one of the younger Gryffindors made a gagging motion as they kissed. Ron simply rolled his eyes. "I need to talk to you tonight."

She sensed the urgency in his voice. "Now? Here?"

"Come with me to the greenhouse."

She nodded, and they broke off from the others under Ron's mildly disapproving glare. He could glare all he wanted. It had ceased to bother her or Neville ages ago.

When they reached the greenhouses, Neville found himself tongue-tied. Ginny looked so good in her Quidditch gear, a little sweaty, her cheeks flushed with the effort of practice. Part of him had been surprised that she wanted to stay on the team with everything going on with the DA, but she had pointed out, that yes, there was a war on, what better revenge than to continue living? They had to keep living. To find things to enjoy in life.

"What's that you've got in your hands, Neville?" she asked gently, helping to restart his brain. She could see that it was a pot with dirt in it.

"It's..." Where to start? He cradled the potted plant in the crook of his elbow, taking her hand with his free arm. "It's a promise."

She raised an eyebrow. "A promise?"

He nodded firmly, "A promise. A promise that no matter how bad things get, no matter what we read in the papers or hear about on the Wireless, or what we see...life will go on. It's strong. And more than that, I know you're strong. And you've convinced me I am too. We're going to win this war, and when it's over..." He swallowed. "This is my promise. Life goes on. I'd like it to go on together. I want you to hold on to this, and water it every day...and a year from now, I'm going to make good on this promise."

"You don't know what's going to happen in the next year," she started.

"No, I don't. But what I do know, is that even if they knock Hogwarts down brick by brick, I'll be standing beside you."

"Wands out, giving 'em hell?" she asked.

"Damn right," he said. "I know you won't be on the sidelines. Neither will I."

"Is that a promise?"

"It is."

* * *

_June 1998_

Ginny woke up, for the first time in her own bed instead of the hospital wing, in a week. Even with a hole in the hospital wall, the matron had preferred to keep as many injured in the hospital wing as possible, rather than leaving them to their own devices and risking complications.

Neville had been by her side daily, nursing his own injuries and looking after her as best he could. With so many people needing them, there was a shortage of healing potions. Ginny suspected Neville had chosen to give up some of what should have been allotted to him so that she could heal. It was strange to wake up alone in her own bed now. What had woken her anyway?

She could hear her roommates chattering on excitedly about something-the first time she'd seen them animated in a while. It had been a dark year. Ginny cracked an eye open and saw the light glinting off of something by her nightstand. That was strange. The only things that should be on the beside table were her wand and perhaps some candy wrappers, and the potted plant Neville had given her a year ago. Was it a year ago today?

It was hard to think of it as a plant when he'd given it to her. No telltale sign of green poked out of the soil for months after he'd given it to her. She remembered asking in September if she was caring for it wrong, and he'd told her no, these things simply take time to come into their beauty, but that if she waited...it would. He'd enigmatically added, "Life is persistent. Just wait."

And eventually a single sprout had protruded from the dark soil. In the past two months it had grown with leaps and bounds, producing a thick stalk, and dark leaves. If she hadn't been in the hospital and preoccupied with a raging battle before that...she'd have seen the bud at the top of the plant. But as it was, now she was seeing it for the first time, squinting in the light.

The bud was nearly the color of her hair, somewhere between red and orange, with teardrop shaped petals. And sitting in the middle of it...a ring.

"Did one of you put that there?" she demanded.

They shook their heads. "The plant didn't open all the way until this morning, and there it was."

Still in her pajamas, Ginny clutched the potted plant to her chest, tottering down the stairs. Neville was sitting at the bottom, waiting for her. He'd fallen asleep with his head against the wall.

"Neville, what is this?"

He opened his eyes and his face lost it's sleepiness almost at once. There was a battered, exhausted smile. "My promise. I told you."

She sank down to the floor beside him, not knowing or caring that she was blocking the stairs. The potted plant was between her knees and chest, the little piece of jewelry still glinting on top.

He reached for her hand. "Do you remember my promise?" he asked.

She thought back, trying to remember the night he gave her this plant. They'd been outside...just after Quidditch practice. "You said we were going to fight side by side."

He chuckled, even though it made his ribs hurt. He tried to hide his wince. "Of course you remember that part. And we did it, didn't we?"

"And we're still here. Just like you promised."

"A little worse for the wear, but...we'll heal. Life goes on. It's stubborn like that. Just like you." He smiled again and then paused, feeling one of his canines with his tongue, wondering if he'd chipped it at some point. He'd had bigger things to worry about.

She squeezed his hand. "And you. Like old tree roots. So much deeper and stronger than anyone would suspect."

Neville shifted slightly against the wall. "Ginny, more than a year ago, I knew what I wanted. I knew why I was fighting. I won't say I'm not glad Bellatrix is dead, but...that's not why I fought. I've been fighting because I knew. I knew that I wanted. I wanted to live long enough to see a better world, to help make a better one. One where our children aren't going to have to fight." He blushed. "What I mean to say is, I want to grow old with you. There are a thousand things I want to do with you. We needed to live, to make it through this war, and to win, and we have. And now that we have. There's a question I've been waiting a long time to ask you." He didn't bother getting to his knee-he was already on his ass, and he was pretty sure the process of getting up would take several minutes. He placed his hands over hers, so they were holding the potted plant together. "Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"

She looked at him, the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "On one condition."

"Which is?"

"That one day, we plant this plant in a yard, where it can grow, because I want to grow old with you, Neville."

Neville's face broke out in a grin, and he as much leaned towards her as fell over, gathering her up in his arms as they crashed to the ground from their seated positions, kissing one another lying in front of the stairs. The plant fell sideways, though the pot didn't break. The ring rolled a few feet away.

Hermione Granger was looking at the pair of them, smiling, even through the dark circles under her eyes from the late nights this week, trying to do what she could. Most of her injuries had healed, though the fatigue was taking it's toll. "Congratulations. You might want to move your celebration about three feet to the left. It looks like you're creating a traffic jam."

Someone came up behind Hermione and wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "Please, please, turn around and kiss me, so I don't have to watch my baby sister rolling around on the floor."

Hermione chuckled, turning around. She brushed his hair back from his forehead and said something to him quietly.

He nodded, taking her hand and they vanished up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Neville and Ginny lay on the floor in front of the girls' staircase, possibly a bit bruised, but grinning. "'And they lived happily ever after' sound like a good ending to you?"

"Sounds like the best."

"Nobody's going to be happy if you don't move," came a voice from the stairs. "We want to come down, and if you don't get out of the way, you're going to get stepped on."

They dragged themselves a few feet away, to lean against the wall together. Neville picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger. "Will you grow old with me? And watch while my hair falls out and I lose my hearing?"

She chuckled. "I will. And will you still love me even when I lose my temper? And get so old my breasts hang to my knees?"

"Always."

They kissed, sitting there on the floor of Gryffindor Tower, unaware of everything but each other. It would be a long road, and the world wasn't mended by a long shot, but they were going to face it together, and it was going to be okay. It was going to be better than okay. And they were going to live happily ever after.

THE END

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**Author's Note: **That's all, folks! I really hope you enjoyed this story. I'm sorry if there are some unanswered questions. Since the main body of this story ends with the start of Neville's sixth year, I didn't want to focus too much on the war in the epilogue except how it pertained to wrapping up Neville and Ginny's story. Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who stuck with this story and has favorite it, and subscribed to it, and reviewed. I never really imagined it would get such a response.


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